Another Route
by Ar-Zimraphel
Summary: Word of a Jedi calling himself Anakin Skywalker travels to the ears of Darth Vader, the most feared being in the Galaxy. He races to Tatooine, where the Jedi was last rumored, and finds much more than he expected. AU. ON HIATUS. Unlikely to be completed.
1. Anakin Skywalker?

Another Route

**Part One**

**Disclaimer:** Hey, all! This is George Lucas writing an alternate reality to Star Wars. Enjoy!

**Summary:** Word of a supposed Jedi calling himself Anakin Skywalker travels to the ears of Darth Vader, the most feared being in the Galaxy. He races to Tatooine, where the Jedi was last rumored, and finds much more than he expected.

**Warnings:** **SPOILERS FOR ROTS! SPOILERS FOR ROTS! SPOILERS FOR ROTS! The main one is a dream sequence concerning the happenings on Mustafar. To those of you who know what I'm talking about… Yes, THAT scene. **Also, my Vader is a fairly angry fellow so he will probably vent several times in the foreseeable future. Especially considering what he went through I would think that he'd be pretty pissed. I would! Bitter is like an _understatement_. If you don't like reading about that side of our beloved (hero? I like to think he is…) then you can just skip over those parts.

**PART ONE WARNINGS**

Um… I'll just say that Owen and Beru get out of the picture pretty quickly.

**Author's Note:** While reading through some of the stuff at I was intrigued by the responses to the challenge that had a man calling himself Anakin Skywalker, and Vader finding out about it. So, this is my take!

Hopefully this little note that says I was joking is unnecessary. If not, then… you've got some serious issues. ;)

"Luke, stop messing around with the droids and come here," Owen Lars snapped at his adopted son, who was peering into the casing of their latest purchase.

"Uncle Owen—I'm pretty sure this circuitry can be altered to program it how to fix the vaporators"—said Luke, oblivious to his uncle.

"Sith, Luke! I said to get over here!" Owen said more harshly, causing the thirteen-year-old's blond head to whip around. He got up reluctantly.

"What?" he asked, his excited mood vanishing.

Owen sighed. "Go into Anchorhead. We need a new hydrospanner."

"But can't you send"—

"No. Go," said Owen tersely. "And don't crash the speeder. And don't dawdle! I need your help and I can't have you getting abducted by Jawas once dark falls." He glanced up at Tatooine's twin suns. "You've not got much time."

"Fine," Luke grumbled, his youthful face clearly expressing that he'd rather be trying to rewire the droid. "I'll need credits."

"I gave you one hundred last week, didn't I?" Owen said.

"Those are for school datapads, Uncle Owen!" Luke protested.

Owen waved his hand. "Use them for the hydrospanner. You can get datapads any time."

"If I put it off any more I won't get to go to school," Luke persisted.

"I don't want to hear anything else about it," said Owen.

Luke stared at him for a few moments until he finally growled darkly, "Fine. Just keep doing your absolute best to make me miserable. Forget that I don't want to waste my life on this stupid rock like you."

Owen's expression clouded over. "Shut your mouth, boy," he said coldly. "Go and do as I say."

"If my father was here, he'd let me train as a pilot," Luke continued, more loudly. "He wouldn't be selfish and force me to stay on Tatooine to be a farmer"—

"Then we had better be glad he isn't!" Owen shouted back. "GO!"

Luke finally obeyed and walked out into the sunlight towards the beat-up speeder. Owen watched his retreat—pained and fearful at the same time. Could a simple upbringing not prevent that boy's genes from manifesting themselves? Was he to be a replica of his father? Owen shivered in fear despite the overwhelming heat. He hoped not. For all their sakes, he hoped not.

Luke parked the speeder angrily and jumped out at Anchorhead's leading tool shop. He walked in, expecting the shop to be vacant as it would normally be at this hour, but to his surprise he saw a man in a dark brown robe conversing animatedly with Mawin, the shop's slightly disreputable owner.

"Look, I know you have the parts, but I need somebody to repair it! It's only a rental, for Sith's sake, how am I expected to know what to do?"

"Shouldna flown it den," said Mawin, scratching his three days' growth of beard.

"Surely you know someone who knows how to repair ships?" the man asked exasperated.

"'pends on how much incentive I got," said Mawin, giving the man a snaggle-toothed grin.

"I'm a Jedi!" The man suddenly said quietly. "Don't force me to do anything."

Luke, unnoticed, continued listening intently. This man was a Jedi? The Empire was supposed to have killed them all. If he had survived, he must truly be powerful…"

"No you ain't," said Mawin. "Them Jedis been all done rid of."

Suddenly, the man whipped out a cylindrical tube of metal and pressed a button. A green, flickering laser suddenly appeared and Mawin went pale. "'mpossible," he said.

"Get me some help," the man threatened.

Luke was entranced. He'd heard the stories of the laser swords that Jedis had supposedly carried, but he had never seen one before…

Mawin finally noticed him and raised a shaking finger to point at him. "That one," he said quickly. "He got a goo' 'ead for them ships."

The man turned around. "You, boy?" he said roughly. "Come with me, then."

Luke felt a strange misgiving. "Sorry, I'm a customer," he said uneasily.

"Don't you see this?" the man said, indicating the green laser sword.

Luke had never stepped on a spaceship before, much less seen the intricate innerworkings of it. It would be interesting… But weren't the Jedis supposed to have been protectors? This man was threatening!

Suddenly, Luke realized that maybe if he figured out some way to help the man, he would let him go with him! This was his chance to finally get off Tatooine, to finally become a pilot! "I'll do it," he said suddenly. "I'll help you."

The man grinned. "Good. Come with me," he said, the laser sword disappearing. He turned to Mawin. "And next time you hear the name of Anakin Skywalker, do as he says. I won't give you a warning next time," he said warningly to Mawin, who nodded hastily.

Luke stopped dead in his tracks. "What?"

"Come on, kid, it's not like I've got much time"—said the man—Anakin Skywalker—impatiently.

Luke just stared at the man. "You're Skywalker? That's your last name?"

"Yes," said the man suspiciously.

Luke couldn't trust his voice. "I'm Luke Skywalker," he mumbled as the older man dragged in into the street.

"You are?" he seemed surprised. "I came here to look for you!" he said. "Luke, I'm your father!"

Luke could hardly believe his ears. Was this true? Had all his childhood dreams finally come to pass? If so—his aunt and uncle had lied to him! His father had been no mere navigator, but a _Jedi_! Did that mean that he could be a Jedi too? "You mean it?" he asked weakly. "I really am?"

Anakin beamed. "Yes, I would never lie to you, son. You were hidden from me for so long… It's only now that I finally found you."

Luke allowed the man to embrace him. _His father._

In Mos Eisley, the Imperial Base received a strange call. "You got t'come, quick!" said the raspy whisper of Mawin. As soon as the Jedi and the boy had left, Mawin had decided that he needed to Comm the Imps as soon as possible—they would take care of this Jedi and he would be left in peace.

"Sir, state your name and emergency, please," said the bored, mechanical voice of a receptionist droid.

"My name is Mawin—I own a store in Anchorhead, and a Jedi just came in!"

"There are no Jedi left, sir," replied the droid.

"He 'ad a laser sword, though! An' he called 'imself a Jedi!" said Mawin desperately. "Lemme talk to somebody there, droid!"

"Did he give you his name, sir?" the droid responded emotionlessly.

"Yeh, yeh—'e said 'is name was Anakin Skywalker!" said Mawin. "He was wearin' a brown robe-type thing."

There was silence while the droid looked up the name. Finally, it replied, "Sir, Imperial Stormtroopers will be arriving at your store as soon as possible. I advise you remain within your store."

Mawin breathed a sigh of relief.

"Who do you live with, son?" asked Anakin as he and Luke walked together.

"Uncle Owen and Aunt Beru," said Luke eagerly. "Come on, you should meet them—if you were there, then Uncle Owen would have no choice but to let me go! We can fix your ship, and then get off this planet!"

Anakin seemed to hesitate. "Are you sure?"

"Yes, absolutely! They always told me you were dead—I can't believe they lied! And you're a _Jedi_!"

Anakin relented. "Very well. Let us go, then."

He mostly just listened as Luke talked excitedly as they drove to a seemingly deserted farmhouse, wondering if this Owen had ever met the REAL Anakin Skywalker…

Darth Vader was mediating in his hyperbolic chamber when he sensed the presence of a nervous captain on the other side of his door. His temper rising at being interrupted, he had the droids replace the mask and helmet and he walked towards the door, using the Force to open it. As he expected, it was the newest, youngest captain. When there was important news to deliver, the other ranking officials sent the newest one. Vader's notoriously short temper was infamous for being the cause of the high fatality rate under his command. 

The captain was sweating and he attempted a salute, terrified at the sight of the imposing man far taller than himself. "My lord," he mumbled.

Vader remained silent for a few excruciating moments. "Why is it that you have interrupted me, Captain Santen?"

The man winced. "Sir, we've received a message from our base on Tatooine—you know, the desert planet on the outer rim"—

"I believe I know Tatooine," said Vader softly, dangerously.

"Yes, well, they reported a Jedi sighting. Supposedly a man named Anakin Skywalker threatened a storeowner with a—erm—" the man glanced down at the cylindrical metal tube that hung at Vader's waist. "One of those laser swords. Like yours, my lord," said the captain.

Vader said nothing. Why would this so-called Jedi dare to reveal himself, even on a planet on the Outer Rim? Why that name? His presence on Tatooine indicated that he knew something of Vader's past, but if he was truly a Jedi, how could he have escaped the Purge? If he was not a Jedi, how could he know Vader's old identity? Making his mind up quickly, Vader focused his attention of the man practically enveloped by fear. "Set a course for Tatooine immediately. I want to be on that planet with that Jedi's body at my feet in less than five hours."

The man saluted again. "Yes, my lord," he stammered, backing out of the way. "Immediately, sir."

He practically ran away from Vader's presence. Smiling behind his mask, the one in question retreated to his room. Why that name? Why Tatooine?

The man was suspicious, Anakin realized. Did he know who the true Anakin Skywalker was? And this boy—he was so trusting. Could he possibly be Skywalker's son? He sat silent as the short teenager outlined plans to his aunt and uncle how he and Anakin were going to travel the galaxy, making up for lost time. Naïve boy.

He was grateful that he hadn't completely blown his cover when the boy had first told him his name. This guise was dangerous enough without blowing it right away. Maybe he could even use the boy. Maybe he could be trained. If he truly was his father's son, he'd have to be fairly powerful, wouldn't he? Maybe he'd be powerful enough to even defeat them.

Anakin suddenly recognized that all three members were staring at him expectantly. "Sorry," he apologized. "Could you repeat yourself?"

"I would like to know just how you came to be here," said the man—Owen—stiffly. "It seems very unlikely, considering what we thought we knew of Luke's father."

Anakin was getting tired of answering this man's questions—they had been there nearly four hours, and his patience was wearing thin. "I've been hiding from the Empire on Outer Rim planets for the past thirteen years," he said, which was the truth, at least. He was grateful he wasn't powerful enough to cause much of a disturbance in the Force. If he hadn't been as weak, he wouldn't have survived. He had been in the temple that night, when the true Anakin Skywalker had entered, and murdered the younglings. He'd only been eight at the time, and had hidden deep within the chambers, uncomprehending why the great Jedi Knight was there. "The Imperials had almost caught on to me the planet I was at last," he explained. "I came here. Of course, I would have come here much sooner had I known Luke was here."

"You look a little young," said Beru finally.

"And you don't look like you did when we last saw you," said Owen.

"The Force keeps me young," said Anakin quickly. "And I had my appearance changed so that I would not stand out as much."

The whole family went silent, and Anakin could tell that Owen did not believe him.

"We've got to close down the farm for the night, Beru," he said to his wife as clearly an invitation to speak privately.

She nodded and stood, casting a wary glance at Anakin. No, she did not trust him either.

"He isn't Anakin," said Owen immediately, his eyes worried and tense.

"I know," said Beru. "He cannot be. Obi-Wan would not have lied to us over such a matter."

"What can we do?" Owen said. "We cannot tell Luke who his true father is, and not this imposter either," he said, touching his forehead with a callused hand.

"Owen… If—if—_he_ finds out…"Beru began slowly, trailing off.

Owen needed no explanation to know of whom his wife spoke in such terrified tones.

"If the stories are true, he will kill us. And the imposter," said Owen. He paused. "And Luke."

"He wouldn't," said Beru, horrified. "How could he kill us, when we've known him? And surely he would not kill his own flesh and blood, Owen, that's unthinkable!"

"Obi-Wan says that not much is left of his own flesh," said Owen. "He told me once, that he left _him_ barely alive, and had no idea how he lived except for mechanics."

"But his heart, Owen!" Beru persisted. "You remember his love for his mother… Surely he cannot have completely lost that passionate heart?"

"You know what he has become, Beru," said Owen. "I think that we must fear the worst, if Obi-Wan is to be believed."

"What can we do?" Beru moaned. "The boy clearly believes this imposter, there is nothing you can say—other than the truth, of course, that will convince him otherwise"—

"He must not leave Tatooine," said Owen firmly. "Obi-Wan says that—_he_—keeps well enough away not to sense Luke's presence, whatever way he would be able to. But if Luke enters some of the more well-known worlds, the core worlds—his father will find him."

Both their gazes turned to the two figures approaching them. Luke was clutching a small bag and Anakin's expression was unreadable.

"I thought we should leave as soon as possible, so I get out of your hair," said Luke excitedly. "You don't have to worry about me, my father will protect me."

"Of course, Luke will have to fix the ship first," said Anakin, looking towards the boy's adoptive parents for approval.

"Luke? Luke has never even seen a ship before," said Beru, forgetting the boy's words in favor of surprise.

"What?" Anakin was unpleasantly surprised. So he was stranded on this forsaken planet? He turned to Luke. "You mean you can't even fix it?"

"I didn't say I could!" Luke protested, seeming hurt. "It was the storeowner that did!"

Anakin swore. "Well, what can you do?" He seemed oblivious to Luke's injured feelings.

"I don't think I appreciate you talking to him that way," said Owen, stepping him, his eyes narrowed.

"Are you his father?" Anakin returned nastily.

"More than you," said Owen tersely. He turned to Luke. "This—_man_—is not your father, Luke. He is some imposter, trying to gain your trust for a twisted reason I don't care to understand."

"Shut up!" Luke said angrily. "You're lying!"

"I would never lie about something like this to you, Luke," said Owen wearily.

"If he isn't my father, then who is, Uncle Owen?" Luke demanded, trying to mask his wounded heart with bravado. "A spice smuggler?"

Owen didn't reply. "Luke…"

"I don't want to hear it!" Luke suddenly screamed. "You've been lying to me my entire life!"

"Luke, you don't understand"—Owen began desperately, sensing that he was losing the boy.

"No, I think I do! You just need the help on this Sith-forsaken farm, so you made up some lie about my father being a good-for-nothing, _dead_ smuggler! Well, he's a _Jedi Knight_, and I'll be one too! And I'll come back here and prove it to you!" Luke cried out.

Beru let out a pained cry. "Luke, please listen to us!" she pleaded.

"Maybe you should stay, Luke," Anakin interjected, hoping to lose the responsibility of the supposed son now that he was of no use to him.

"What?" Luke turned on him, aghast. "What do you mean?"

"Well, I live a dangerous life, Luke," Anakin said uncomfortably. "Maybe I should return when you're older, and then we can travel together"—

"How could you say that? We've been apart for thirteen years, and you want to wait some more?" Luke was clearly hurt.

Anakin fell silent as Owen and Beru looked on.

As his shuttle set down in the sands that he had hoped never to see again, Vader steeled himself. The memories—of his childhood, and his mother—rushed back, but he beat them down, as he always did. Those memories had no place in him, except for the anger he felt at his mother's death. The Stormtroopers looked at him expectantly. "I will go alone," he told him. "Stay until I return."

The captain saluted and Vader stood as the harsh winds of the desert made his cloak billow out. He stepped down into the sand as the twin suns disappeared beyond the horizon. He could feel the Force-sensitive person—he was strong, that much Vader could tell. There seemed another, smaller presence—perhaps another—

No, Vader said. If there was any remnant of the Force here, then it was as a result of his own actions that night, when he had slaughtered the camp.

They had not set down far from the supposed Jedi, but far enough so that he would not be immediately alerted to their presence, and have the opportunity to run. Though, Vader admitted, hiding in a farm such a distance from Anchorhead was bizarre in and of itself. There was danger in Mos Eisley, to be sure, and Anchorhead was most likely crawling with Stormtroopers, but the Jedi's chance of escape was greater in a place with a ship, at least.

He came upon the farm sooner than expected, and shielded the people's minds from his telltale breathing mask. He wished to observe his prey for a few moments before the strike. It was strange to him why the Jedi was speaking to the two older people—and the boy too, he realized. Surely the Jedi realized the dangers of associating with people? It would be far more intelligent to simply hide from them and use their facility as a brief harbor.

The people were on good enough terms, it seemed—they would have to be killed, of course, for harboring Imperial enemies. They would have most like heard their local report of a reported Jedi.

Unless, of course, Vader thought, Tatooine had remained as unbelievably primitive as it had been during his own youth. He enhanced his hearing just enough to hear the Jedi say, "Maybe I should return when you're older, and then we can travel together"—

Vader felt a surprisingly strong wave of pain from the boy, who replied, in anguish, "How could you say that? We've been apart for thirteen years, and you want to wait some more?" Vader sensed ripples in the Force, and suddenly realized that it was not the Jedi who was powerful, it was the boy. Did that mean that the imposter was attempting to recruit the boy for training? In that case, or in any case, they would both be killed. But how had he come upon the Force-sensitive boy to begin with? If he were as unremarkable as he seemed, he would not have been able to sense the boy, even from a nearby planet.

The four people remained in awkward silence until Owen opened his mouth to say something, but words were robbed from his mouth and they all froze.

Quite suddenly, they all heard the terrifying hiss of a respirator and saw the enormously tall figure clothed completely in black walk to them from the darkness.

Beru let out a shrill scream and clutched her husband in terror. Owen gasped and reached out for Luke's arm, but the boy jerked it away. Anakin's face was pale. He was dead—Vader would kill him, not only for being a Jedi, but for using his name—there was no hope for survival—he turned around, preparing to run, however futile.

"I would think that the true Anakin Skywalker would stand and fight," said Vader, his voice amplified and aided by the apparatus of the mask. Anakin stopped dead—Vader had used the Force to stop him in his tracks. Slowly, he turned to face the dreaded figure.

Other than the woman's scream, there was only silence and the sound of his cursed respirator. The imposter was clearly terrified out of his wits, Vader could easily tell. He looked no more than twenty-five—he would have been a Padawan at the time of the Purge. How had he missed him? Vader remembered clearly the night he had led the Stormtroopers through the Jedi Temple, and did not recall the Force-pulse of another alive.

The Jedi fumbled and turned on his lightsaber, the laser humming to life, but the bright green light flickered slightly.

Realizing why, Vader let out a slow, ominous laugh completely devoid of mirth. "You think to duel me with the practice lightsaber of a Padawan, Jedi? I had hoped for the semblance of a contest when I felt the presence of someone strong in the force here."

'Anakin' was visibly trembling and sweaty, and did not seem to be able to find any words to say, when Luke tugged on his robe. "Do something!" Luke cried. "You're a Jedi, you're the only one of us that can defeat him!"

"Listen to the child, Jedi," said Vader, calling his own lightsaber to his hand and allowing the scarlet light to come into being. He held it, poised. "Do something. Will you not seek to destroy me, as all of your precious Masters have died doing so?"

"You—you're evil!" 'Anakin' gasped, his fear consuming him.

The woman let out another cry and rushed towards the boy, who was staring with disappointment towards the Jedi. "Luke, please, get away from him! Please, child! Run!"

"He's my father," said the boy quietly, though he sounded less than convinced. "I can't abandon him…"

Vader admitted confusion. This boy thought that the Jedi was his father? A horrible thought crept into his mind, as he recalled that the Jedi had called himself Anakin Skywalker. No… Impossible…

He was forced to react as the Jedi suddenly found strength enough to swing his lightsaber around in a rudimentary move that Vader blocked easily. He flicked his own lightsaber and the Jedi's weapon flew out of his grasp, landing in the sand. He held his own blade in front of the Jedi's neck. "At least die with an attempt of honor," he spat, as the imposter didn't move.

When he did nothing except surrender to fear, Vader sighed mentally and brought his lightsaber around in a vicious chop, decapitating the weak imposter.

The boy let out a cry and stared at Vader. "You killed him!" he shouted. "You killed my father!"

With almost inhuman speed, he rushed to the dropped lightsaber and ignited it, running towards Vader with blind fury. Vader acted on instinct. He stepped aside and brought his weapon down, shearing through the boy's wrist on the arm that held the weapon.

He let out a scream of pain, as did the woman, who rushed to him. She collapsed by the boy and looked up at Vader as she cradled the child, tears in her eyes. "How could you, Anakin?" she whispered, her face a mask of pain. "He's your"—

Vader's rage at his being called by his former—_weak_—name caused him to raise his blade and bring it down harshly upon the woman, killing her as easily as he had the imposter. Who was that woman to know his former identity? More, how dare she call him by that name—that hated name? Vader's wrath did not diminish as he turned his attention to the man, who had collapsed to his knees, staring in disbelief at the scene before him.

"What is your name?" he growled, advancing upon him. "Who are you?"

The man showed no signs of acknowledgement as he looked unblinkingly at his fallen wife and at the Jedi who was supposed to have protected them. He suddenly seemed to shake himself out of his reverie. He looked at Vader. "She did nothing," he mumbled uncomprehendingly. "She did nothing wrong. She was innocent."

"She was going to take in a Jedi," Vader growled. "And has harbored a Force-sensitive child in her home. Those were her crimes. And yours are the same, and you will receive the same punishment."

"Anakin, please"—the man begged him. "Please do not harm Luke. I met you once! Do you not remember? I am Owen Lars."

Vader registered mild surprise despite the fury that encompassed him once more. He raised his lightsaber as if to strike him down. "I am Darth Vader, Lord of the Sith! Anakin Skywalker is dead, and his name shall never be uttered again!" he thundered, but the man—Owen Lars, the child of his mother's union with the older Lars—did not falter. He seemed resigned to his imminent death.

"Do not harm Luke, Anakin. He is your son," said Owen, just as Vader's blade whipped down to kill him like it had all the rest.

It couldn't be. Padmé had died, and the child within her must have as well. Vader looked down at the scene before him—the teenager cradling the stump of his hand, tears wetting his cheeks. She had died, his Master had told him so—he had killed her—the child could not have survived—it was impossible.

And yet the child's strength of the Force… He was untrained, but Vader could still feel the potential power that lurked there…

No, he rushed to counter. This boy—this _Luke_—he was not his son. It was not possible. He was Darth Vader, and Padmé was dead, and so was the child—they were both dead, just like Anakin Skywalker—

The boy stared up at him, fear and hatred and pain evident both on his face and through his presence in the Force.

Padmé's eyes.

No, no, he told himself. It couldn't be. But this time the words were hollow. His _son_.

_Their_ son.

The Stormtroopers all stared at Vader as he carried the boy to the shuttle and laid him down in one of the empty seats. Vader sensed their surprise and bewilderment—and also their burning desire to ask—but he was in no mood to assuage them. He did not know why he took the boy—he told himself that it was because his Master would want to know of the boy, but Vader knew that the reason was shallow.

"My lord?" the captain asked tentatively. Vader did not respond. "The boy…"

"Upon our return to the _Executor_ you are to see personally that this boy is placed in the Medical Wing and given the proper treatment," said Vader. "He is to be secured with binders and placed under a forced sleep. No word of his existence is to be mentioned to anyone on board the ship. If this order is breached, I will see to it that each of you receives a very public, very painful death. Am I understood?"

All the clones immediately replied, "Yes, my lord."

Vader said nothing for the remainder of the journey back to the super star destroyer. Luke was his name, he remembered. Was that the name that Padmé had chosen? He remembered that he had wanted to name the child Qui-Gon, after the Jedi that had saved him from enslavement. Vader glanced at the boy. She had been right, he thought. Luke was a better name.

**Author's Note:** What did you think? The faux Anakin was really just a plot device to put Vader and Luke together, so if you're looking to see more of him, you won't. Please excuse any typos! **UP NEXT:** Obi-Wan and Yoda have a talk; Luke has a dream that makes some things a bit clearer; Vader decides that Luke can learn to be a TIE fighter pilot and a Sith on the side.


	2. Bad Dream

Another Route 

**Part Two**

**Disclaimer: **Is this really necessary?

**Summary: **Word of a supposed Jedi calling himself Anakin Skywalker travels to the ears of Darth Vader, the most feared being in the Galaxy. He races to Tatooine, where the Jedi was last rumored, and finds much more than he expected.

**Warnings:** **SPOILERS FOR ROTS! SPOILERS FOR ROTS! SPOILERS FOR ROTS! The main one is a dream sequence concerning the happenings on Mustafar. To those of you who know what I'm talking about… Yes, THAT scene. /b **Also, my Vader is a fairly angry fellow so he will probably vent several times in the foreseeable future. Especially considering what he went through I would think that he'd be pretty pissed. I would! Bitter is like an _understatement_. If you don't like reading about that side of our beloved (hero? I like to think he is…) then you can just skip over those parts.

**PART TWO WARNINGS:**

DO NOT READ THIS PART IF YOU HAVE NOT YET SEEN REVENGE OF THE SITH 

**Author's Note: **While reading through some of the stuff at I was intrigued by the responses to the challenge that had a man calling himself Anakin Skywalker, and Vader finding out about it. So, this is my take!

* * *

Vader sat in his meditation chamber, trying to focus, but his thoughts were in turmoil over his newly discovered son. Who had hidden the boy from him? Unbidden, an image of Obi-Wan popped into his head, and Vader clenched his fists. Of course—Obi-Wan. He had taken everything else from him; undoubtedly, he would be the one to hide the child.

The vivid memory of the fire, the molten lava sliding up his back—Vader repressed the memories with a mental shudder, only to open his eyes and see his ravaged body, revealed once the armor was removed. The mechanical legs, arms—the contraptions hooked to him that kept the feared, so-called invincible Darth Vader alive. Fury boiled up in him. Obi-Wan had done this—Obi-Wan had left him to die, helpless as the fire consumed him, as the fumes destroyed his lungs, rendered him dependent on the mask, the hated mask—Vader's prosthetic hands clenched. That _Jedi_, that man who had called Vader his brother--he would pay for doing this to him, for turning Padmé against him, for hiding his son—he vowed that Obi-Wan would die by his hand, and no other.

Once his anger subsided temporarily, Vader clad himself in the life-support suit once more, realizing that he would not be able to meditate in this state. He might as well go to see if the boy was recuperating, he reasoned. Perhaps he was awake.

* * *

Luke woke, wishing that his horrible nightmare had come to an end—that he was on the farm, that he had never heard the words Anakin Skywalker, that he had never laid eyes on the most feared man in the Galaxy. He opened his eyes and saw the unfamiliar white ceiling above him and disappointment and sorrow flooded his heart.

It had happened.

His nightmare had been real.

He sat up slowly and then looked to his right hand in horror. His right hand was gone, and was replaced by a multitude of wires and metal. He stared at it unbelievingly at it, and did not notice a droid entered the room. When it spoke, he looked up sharply. "Your new skin will be arriving shortly, Master Patient 9221. I apologize for the inconvenience. I assure you that the skin will not belie that the limb is artificial."

The droid's words did not register in Luke's mind.

He did not have a hand.

His hand was gone.

In its place was a mechanic fake, an imposter, a pretend hand.

Luke felt nauseated and looked away before glancing down again at the mess of wires and metal that was in the place of his hand.

"My hand is gone," he whispered to himself.

"I know the feeling," replied the deep voice that had haunted his dreams. Luke turned sharply to see Darth Vader standing at the entrance of his room, his arms crossed. Luke froze in terror and hatred. He was the one to do it all—he had killed Aunt Beru, and Uncle Owen, and—whoever that Jedi was. He had cut off Luke's hand.

Vader watched Luke stare at him, wide-eyed and obviously petrified with fear. The only sound was that off his mechanized breathing. "It is unfortunate that you lost the hand at so young an age. As you grow, it will have to be replaced to fit with the rest of your body." He did not know why he said that. The fear that he caused—which he normally enjoyed—was making the situation awkward.

"You're not going to kill me?" the boy asked bitterly, his emotions overwhelming the fear for a brief second.

"I don't think so," said Vader, impassive.

Luke turned his head away, a gesture that stirred in Vader the memory of Padmé—his Padmé—doing the same thing. "Why did you do it?" he asked desperately, his voice full of pain. "Why did you have to kill them?

Vader didn't know quite what to say. "They were harboring a Jedi," he said finally, unsure of why he was even answering the boy.

"But they didn't do anything to you!" he burst out. "Aunt Beru was never mean to anyone, and Uncle Owen cared for me! The only reason my father was there was because I wanted to say goodbye to them before we left!"

"You believe that the Jedi was your father?" asked Vader with mild interest.

"That's not the point!" Luke shouted. "They never did anything bad to anyone! They didn't deserve to die!" He seemed to have forgotten his fear.

"Many die who do not deserve to do so," said Vader in as a strangely distant tone as his mostly mechanical voice could portray.

"But they didn't just 'die!'" Luke said, tears spilling from his eyes that he wiped away hastily. "You killed them!"

"How did you meet the Jedi?" Vader said, not sure how to respond to the boy's overly emotional state.

"In a store," said Luke. "He thought I could repair his ship 'cause he didn't know how."

"That should have told you immediately that he was not the true Anakin Skywalker," said Vader sharply.

"What?"

"What did your aunt and uncle tell you of your father?" Vader asked, slightly surprised. He thought that they would have told him basic facts at least, if not that his father was Darth Vader.

"They told me he was a navigator for a spice smuggler," said Luke quietly, refusing to look at Vader.

"That is obviously not the case," he said, not without some derision. "Anakin Skywalker had remarkable skill with mechanics. In fact, that was his best skill before becoming a Jedi."

"Then why couldn't he repair his ship?" Luke asked, confused.

"That was not Anakin Skywalker," said Vader. The traumatic events of two days earlier must have somehow altered his memories of them. "Before I became a Sith, that was my name. I am your father."

Vader could tell from both the boy's expression and gentle probing of his mind that he remembered his uncle's words. I _Do not harm Luke, Anakin. He is your son ._

After a few minutes of silence, Luke stared at the expressionless mask. "No. I don't believe you."

Vader had not expected that. He said nothing.

"You're lying!" Luke suddenly shouted, throwing back his covers on the bed and trying to stand before his other wrist was caught on the binders keeping him locked to the bed. He pulled at it, attempting desperately to get as far away from Vader as the room would allow. He looked at the man in black wildly. "You're wrong! My father died! He died! He's dead! My father wouldn't kill innocent people, he wouldn't cut off my hand—you're lying! You're lying to me!"

To Vader, the boy's fear, confusion, and pain were as tangible as the suit he wore. "I do not lie."

The boy said nothing as he breathed heavily after his exertion. "No," he said weakly. "No," he repeated. "No, I don't believe you." The words were empty, and Vader knew that the boy realized the truth.

"Lord Vader… Uh… What do you wish us to do with the child?" asked one of Vader's captains nervously.

"I don't see how he is of any importance to you, Captain," said Vader smoothly.

"Lord Vader," the Captain continued hurriedly. "It's just… the men are starting to talk. They're confused. They want to know why the boy is on the ship."

"Will this prevent the men from doing their jobs, Captain?"

"Well, no, it shouldn't"—the Captain said awkwardly.

"It won't, or you will pay. Do I make myself clear?" said Vader.

The Captain nodded furiously. "Yes, sir—Of course, sir."

The Captain left the room and Vader sat down in his chair. Truthfully, he didn't know what he would do with the boy. He had completely recovered, and the sensitive 'skin' had been applied to his prosthetic. He refused to speak except in absolutely necessary sentences—something for which Vader was grateful. The boy's questions had become a nuisance.

But still, something needed to be done. He got his Comm device and called the Medical Wing.

Twenty minutes later, a squad of six Stormtroopers escorted Luke inside Vader's office. The boy avoided looking at his father, and Vader noticed that his prosthetic hand was hidden within the folds of the overlarge shirt with which he had been provided. He was short, for thirteen—he had blond hair, and blue eyes. Vader supposed that Luke looked like he had, only the shape of his eyes and his mannerisms were completely reminiscent of Padmé.

He looked up to the Stormtroopers. "Return to your duty," he told them, and they obeyed immediately. At their departure, the boy seemed to shrink further within himself. He still refused to make eye contact—or the equivalent of eye contact—with Vader. Vader said nothing. He knew that eventually the boy would speak.

They listened to several mechanized inhalations and exhalations. Finally the boy looked up. "What did you mean when you said you knew what it felt like to lose a hand?"

That was not the question Vader expected.

He thought a moment. "When I was still a Jedi, my mentor and best friend dueled with me, believing that I was trying to prevent the Jedi from gaining power of the Galaxy." He chose his words carefully. "We fought on a volcanic planet named Mustafar. It was there that my arms and legs were cut off." It was not completely true—Count Dooku had first cut off his right hand in that ill-fated duel when he was still a Padawan.

Luke was properly horrified. "But why would he fight you if you were best friends?"

"I suppose that he was so overcome with fear that the Jedi would lose power that our relationship meant nothing to him," said Vader, anger bubbling up to the surface as it always did when he thought about Obi-Wan.

Luke said nothing for a few seconds. "Why do you wear that mask?" he asked finally, almost fearfully.

Vader's fists clenched. "He left me to die on the banks of a lava flow. The fumes that the lava produced—as well as the fire—destroyed my lungs and most of my other organs. The mask is part of a body-wide respiration system." Vader detested speaking about his medical situation and no one other than the Emperor, his droids, and the doctor to whom he occasionally went knew of the extent of his injuries. But, he reasoned, if he was to win the boy's trust, it was best not to lie. No doubt, the truth would make him a more human character than the mask and suit allowed.

Luke looked horrified. "But—weren't the Jedi supposed to be good?"

"They pretended to be," said Vader.

Vader smiled behind the mask as he sensed that the boy's opinion of him was softening.

They sat in silence for a few moments until Luke had fully absorbed the information. He turned and sat down in the chair as kind of a gesture of truce. "You're really my father?" he asked after a few moments.

"Yes."

Luke looked at his prosthetic hand. "Why did you have to kill them?" he whispered bitterly.

"The Jedi are my sworn enemies," said Vader. "In both personal and official respects. It is part of my duty to remove Jedi, or those who show their lack of loyalty to the empire, from the galaxy."

Vader could tell that the boy was evaluating his response. He was probably recalling what Vader had told him of Obi-Wan. He looked up at the fearsome mask. "But… Aunt Beru…"

"You will be provided with a room close to my own," said Vader, interrupting him. "You will be protected by a squadron of Stormtroopers at all times. If anyone speaks to you, tell me and they will be punished."

Vader saw the memory of Beru's dead body flash through Luke's mind. "Not fatally," he added, though it was probably a lie. Though, he thought to himself, none of the Stormtroopers would dare to disobey his orders. There would be no reason for them to die.

* * *

_"You were my brother, Anakin!" said the man, clearly pained as he stared at Luke from the ridge. "I loved you!"_

_Luke screamed as he felt his legs—or what was left of his legs—catch fire, as he slid helplessly down the ridge. The pain was unbearable—the flames licked the flesh, searing it, cutting deep into the wounds already inflicted._

_He felt the words tear themselves from his damaged throat—the fumes already beginning to do their work. "I HATE YOU!" He screamed, terror and helplessness and betrayal seeping through his body. _

_The man lowered his eyes and stared at him, his eyes reflecting Luke as he slid perilously close to the lava. Sorrowfully, he pocketed the metal cylinder and Luke felt a rush of anger as his lightsaber—the blade over which he had labored for so long—was taken from him. The man walked away and Luke's anger was soon forgotten as his body touched the lava._

_He screamed in unadulterated agony as the fire consumed him, as it ate away his flesh, permeated his bones. He struggled to breathe, the toxic fumes suffocating him. With his remaining hand—his mechanical hand, he realized, he clutched the earth and attempted to pull his destroyed, burning body from the lava. Hatred flowing through him, he swore that he would survive this, that he would kill Obi-Wan. Fresh pain coursed through him and he let out another scream… _

Luke realized he was screaming when he woke up. He jerked up and ripped back the covers on his new bed to check to make sure his legs were still there, to see if his body was scarred from lava burns. He jumped out of his bed, staring in horror as his eyes showed him mechanical limbs, as he saw twisted, disfigured skin. Luke let out a yell and shut his eyes, stumbling to the ground. He breathed heavily for several minutes, his head spinning. No—it wasn't possible—

He opened his eyes and nearly cried in relief when his own body stared back at him. Just a dream.

_Luke._

Luke jerked around, searching for the voice. _Who is that?_

_This is your father, Luke. _

Luke couldn't muster the energy to respond—he was terrified to tell Vader what he had seen. Was that what he had lived through? Had Luke just experienced the results of the duel on Mustafar? He shuddered and clutched his knees to his chest, burying his face. He moaned as a cold sweat came over him.

_I will be there shortly._

Luke tried to breathe normally but he was half-paralyzed by hyperventilation and his fears that he had, in fact, breathed in the toxic fumes and could not breathe, that his lungs couldn't function…

Luke gasped for air and slid to the floor, welcoming the coolness of the concrete, especially after... He cleared his head, trying desperately to forget the sensations of his dream. He slowly began to calm down and managed to prevent full-on hyperventilation.

Suddenly the door slid open and the man Luke least wanted to see stepped through, clad as ever in the suit. He moaned a second time and shut his eyes tight, the memories of his struggles to breathe wracking him. His brief repose from the act of desperation over, he gasped for air.

Suddenly, he felt himself begin to calm. It was as if something invisible was cooling him, was reassuring him. Some unseen force began to help him to breathe, and he felt his mind clearing, ridding itself of the agony and the fear—temporarily at least.

He felt himself being lifted and set on the bed. He opened his eyes to stare at Vader, whose mechanical breathing and Luke's own mingled now. Luke shuddered as he remembered the reason for the respirator and almost succumbed to his dream once more but for a gentle presence in his mind that had retrieved him.

"You saw Mustafar " Vader stated, more than a little disturbed.

Luke did nothing, his face blank.

Vader said nothing. The images from the boy's dream were so vivid that they projected themselves into Vader's mind, not that he needed any aid remembering. He recognized that he needed to say something to Luke, who was still staring at him, pale and breathing raggedly. He almost shuddered himself as the boy emanated the pain he had felt in the dream. Guarding his mind was something Vader would need to teach himself as soon as possible. "His name was Obi-Wan Kenobi," he said finally, stepping in front of Luke and clasping his fists together behind his back. Luke looked at him, obviously not trusting himself to speak. "I am going to show you how to meditate," said Vader at last. That, at least, would help the boy calm himself.

"To what?" Luke finally asked, his voice hoarse and weak.

Vader mentally winced at the similarity between it and his own, when unaided by the respirator. "Meditate. It will help you relax, using the Force."

Luke stared at him blankly. "The what?"

Vader felt the fury build in him quickly. They had not even told the boy of the Force, his birthright? "You mean you do not know of the Force?" he said finally.

Luke did not need to shake his head for Vader to realize his honesty.

"It is the energy field that surrounds us and is part of everything," said Vader, unconsciously reciting what he had been told throughout his training as a Jedi. "It binds the universe together. There are some that feel it, and can bind it to their will. I can, and you can as well. I will teach you to use it, and you will be my apprentice."

"Apprentice?"

"Yes," said Vader, and Luke detected a small change in the voice—satisfaction, perhaps? "But first, you must learn to meditate."

Luke nodded slowly, and Vader sensed that he was ready. "Close your eyes," said the Sith. "And control your breathing. Recall the pain and fear, and reach for the Force," he told his son, who did as he was told. "Good," said Vader as a calm seemed to come over the boy. He turned to leave and walked out the door, casting one last look at Luke, whose posture seemed serene as he sat on the bed.

Looking away, Vader strode down the hallway, perturbed. He had instinctively used the Light Side of the Force to calm the boy, and had hardly realized it. His mood darkened. That must not happen again, he commanded himself. The boy would become a Sith. He did not need Vader using the Light Side to help him recover from nightmares.

Vader sighed inwardly. Even _those _nightmares.

* * *

Obi-Wan Kenobi jerked awake at the movements of the Force. He stood and grabbed his lightsaber, not sure why he had woken. Was something wrong with Luke? He sensed ripples in the Force that indicated someone's death nearby. He cast the Force over the area, trying in vain to sense Luke and his guardians. When he felt nothing, cold fear settled in his breast and spread to his body. Fearing the worst, he took his speeder to the farm just as the first of the suns—Tatoo I—was rising.

The scene was worse than he had imagined. The decapitated forms of Beru, Owen, and a younger man whom he had never seen before lay on the sand. Swallowing, he knelt down to inspect the gruesome wounds. He shuddered as he realized that that the cause of their deaths was as he feared—a lightsaber. And there was only one lightsaber left that would do so much damage, which meant…

He looked around the farm, calling with the Force to try and find Luke. But the boy's strong presence was no where to be found, except for…

Obi-Wan let out a short cry as he saw a Padawan's lightsaber on the ground, the hand of a boy still clutching it. He fell to his knees, stunned and horrified at the same time. "Oh, Anakin—what have you done? Have I failed again?" Was Luke in the hands of his father, the monster that he himself had created?

With a violent tremor of guilt, Obi-Wan recalled that night thirteen years earlier as he had stared at his horribly crippled protégé, his brother, his best friend, crying out in agony and hate. Repressing the painful memories, he stood and steeled himself. It was time to contact Yoda—no doubt he would have felt the distress. Bail Organa would also have to be notified. Leia was now their only hope—Luke was sure to be killed. He had failed him just as he had failed Anakin.

"To the hands of Darth Vader Luke has gone," said Yoda once Obi-Wan stepped inside the Jedi Master's humble home.

"Master… It is my fault," said Obi-Wan sorrowfully. "I should have kept closer watch! I should have just told Luke about his father—I should have trained him!"

"Change the past dwelling will not," said Yoda heavily. "In both of us the responsibility is," said Yoda. "But find him Vader would have still if the boy was trained."

"What can we do?" Obi-Wan asked desperately. "Luke could be killed—or worse, trained as a Sith!"

"Only hope that there is still some Anakin left in Darth Vader, we can," said Yoda as he poured a miniature, rough-cut drinking vessel full of water.

"You did not see the Lars' home, Master," Obi-Wan said as he accepted the water from Yoda. "It was a slaughter. I cannot believe that Darth Vader is anything other than a monster. There is no Anakin left in him. And it is my fault."

"Caught by Darth Sidious, Anakin was," said Yoda quietly. "Blamed you are not to be."

Obi-Wan held his head in his arms and massaged his temples. "I wish that I had killed him, more than ever," he said softly. "Released him from his torment, to join Padmé."

"Torturing yourself you are," said Yoda gently. "Focus we must on Leia. Lost is Luke to us."

Obi-Wan nodded silently. "Yes, Master," he said softly, though his heart still ached for those that had been lost—good, noble Anakin—kind Padmé—and now, he realized, Luke. Luke, in his innocence, was lost forever.

"Return you must to Tatooine," Yoda urged. "Erase your life there you must."

* * *

"What news have you to report, Lord Vader?" the sinister voice of the Emperor croaked. The Darkness emanated even from the holo in front of which Vader knelt.

"The rumors of a Jedi calling himself Anakin Skywalker were true, Master," said Vader, choosing his words carefully. The Emperor would learn of Luke's existence soon enough—there was no point in hiding the boy from him. "He was nothing but a Padawan during the Purge, and too weak for me to feel him."

"It is good that he is disposed of, Lord Vader," said the Emperor.

"Master… There was the presence of another Force-sensitive person on Tatooine," said Vader. "I think that the Jedi was attempting to take and train him."

"Did you terminate him?" the Emperor asked unconcernedly.

"Well—the boy was remarkably strong, though untrained," said Vader quickly. "I thought that he could become my apprentice."

The Emperor said nothing for a few minutes. "You seek to destroy me by training another Sith, Lord Vader?"

"Master, I would never"—Vader remedied quickly. He began again. "I thought only that if the boy could be trained, then there would be two Sith that you would trust to carry out your orders. This is a large Galaxy—the presence of another Sith would relieve some of my duties."

"You grow weary of your obligations, Lord Vader?"

Vader knew his Master well enough that he recognized that he was walking on thin ice. "No, Master. I only thought that if I am destroying the seeds of rebellion on the Outer Rim, I cannot see to the problems of the Core Worlds. An apprentice—one we could trust—would solve this."

Darth Sidious said nothing for a few minutes, and Vader knew that his argument had won. What came next, however, he did not expect.

"Why this interest in a strong Force-sensitive boy, Lord Vader?" the Emperor questioned. "Never have you had qualms destroying strong Jedi."

"This boy is not a Jedi, Master. He is impressionable, and"—Vader paused. "He is the child of Anakin Skywalker."

Vader could sense the surprise and disgust of the Emperor. "Your _child _? So, then, you have not released all of your former self? You still feel the weaknesses of the Jedi, Vader?"

Vader had known that this would be the response. "I believe that he was hidden from me to insure that we would not be able to train him, Master. I believe that the Jedi was sent by Obi-Wan Kenobi to retrieve him and train him to defeat us. Also… If I manage to gain the boy's trust and loyalty, he will become a faithful servant of the Empire."

That was the clincher—the Emperor knew that if the strength of Darth Vader's son was trained for the Jedi, his own position would be threatened. Finally, he said, "Very well, Lord Vader. You have your apprentice. But"—he continued darkly—"If I hear of anything displeasing to me, you shall pay. And the boy shall die—and you the one to kill him."

"Yes, Master," Vader replied as the blue form of his Master disappeared. He let out a particularly heavy breath. His excuses had worked.

* * *

There was nothing in his room except for a bed and a table with nothing on it. The walls were white, the floor was white, and there were no windows. Luke assumed that he was on a ship of some kind, but it did not feel like it. Vader had not contacted him once since his dream two nights earlier. Since then, he had almost driven himself crazy. Vader had provided him with a droid, which he had named Bede, because of its serial number of BD-261. But, it was not built for personality, only for care-taking. So far, Luke had tried to teach it the Word-Association game, but it seemed that the model was not able to perform such a humanoid feature. And so, he was left with nothing to do, except to meditate.

Vader had been right about that, Luke granted. He had remained in a trance for several hours and had reemerged newly revitalized. Still, the chill that the Force seemed to emanate made him uneasy. He did not feel quite comfortable with it, and it did not give him the same calm that he had felt when Vader had used the Force to pacify him after the dream. He would have to speak to Vader about it—perhaps there was something he was not doing correctly.

He had refrained from meditation and for the past day he had been working at the door of his room. It was a door that could be opened by a series of codes or by voice recognition. It was a distraction from the truth of his situation to try and crack the code. He had ordered the droid to get him some basic tools, and had spent the better part of nine hours attempting to dismantle the mechanism that locked him inside the room.

He was terrified of getting electrocuted—would the metal of his prosthetic hand act as a conductor for the rest of his body? Would they find him, days later, dead on the floor from electrocution?

Nonetheless, he plodded on with the primitive tools that the droid had procured. The mechanism was in shambles around him, but he lay no closer to discovering the codes that would allow him to escape his room.

He still vaguely hoped that he would wake up from this dream, but he knew now that it was pointless to deny what had happened. When he had stopped meditation the first day in isolation, he began to mourn over Uncle Owen and Aunt Beru. The next day—this morning—he remembered how evil the Jedi had been. That his guardians had harbored one was unthinkable, and Luke began to wonder if perhaps they were guilty of crimes punishable by death. Why couldn't they have just obeyed the law?

When the door opened, he was ecstatic to think that his efforts had finally paid off—but then a dark shadow blocked his light and he realized that Vader had entered the room, and was now staring down at him.

He swallowed fearfully and glanced down at the mess of wires and parts and circuitry that lay all over the floor of his room. "I—uh"—

"What, exactly, were you doing?" Vader asked, his voice expressionless.

"I was trying to open the door," said Luke, hanging his head.

"Why?"

"I—uh—was bored," said Luke, gesturing to his surroundings. "What was I supposed to do?"

Vader seemed mildly amused—if that was possible—when he spoke next. "Why did you not use the Force to open the door, instead of destroying the locking mechanism?"

"I didn't think that was possible"—

"You will become a Sith, Luke," said Vader. "You will soon learn that everything is possible through the Force."

Luke was silent for a few moments while he contemplated Vader's words. He looked back up to Vader, and stood. "Can I be a pilot too?"

That was not the question that Vader had anticipated—he had expected more questions about the Force and the Sith, but it seemed that the boy had accepted his future readily. "You wish to train as a pilot?" he said, raising his brow behind the mask. It seemed that the boy had inherited that love as well.

"Yes," said Luke eagerly. "I always wanted to—I was going to go to school and try and get accepted into the Imperial Flight School, but Uncle Owen refused." The boy's face clouded over. "I know why, now, obviously."

Another reason to detest Owen Lars. "Imperial pilots begin training at fourteen," he told Luke. "They train on the Star Destroyers. However, there is a group that trains here," he said, motioning to the ship with a gloved hand. "You will remain here, so that you will be trained as a Sith as well. I will allow you to begin now, even though you are not of age. If you do not perform to the standard the Empire expects of students selected to learn on the I _Executor /I _, then your training will be stopped."

Luke could hardly believe his ears. He was going to be allowed to fly? He had asked only in vain hope…

"You will be moved to their quarters," said Vader, continuing. "You are to tell no one of your relation to me. Your instructors will be informed of the situation. He glanced down—or, at least, Luke thought he did—at the dismantled locking mechanism. "You are not to leave this room until you have rebuilt this," he said, indicating the mess strewn about the room with a gloved hand. "Once you have, tell me and I will open the door. The Stormtroopers will tell you what to do then," he said.

He turned and moved to leave and was nearly out the door when a shell-shocked Luke called out, "Thank you!"

Vader paused almost imperceptibly. "When I return, I want this door fully functional." With that, he swept down the corridor, leaving Luke with the seemingly impossible task of putting the mechanism back together.

Luke looked despairingly at his mission and picked up the main circuit board. He'd get to fly once it was fixed, he told himself. Heaving a sigh, he began collecting the parts.

* * *

Author's Note: Um.. yeah.. I have been posting this on the L/V Writer's group, but not here. Sorry! 


	3. Meeting Dase

Part 3...

* * *

Luke hardly slept for the next two days. Taking apart the locking mechanism had been easy, but putting it back together-

He wiped sweat from his forehead and realized that he had used his mechanic hand. He stared at it for a second before wiping it on the pilot trainee uniform that had arrived the previous morning. It was far better than the awkward clothes that he had gotten upon leaving the medical center.

At times, it was mindless work, and it gave him time to think about what Vader had told him about the Force. Could Luke truly become as powerful as Vader? And a pilot at the same time?

Vader had seemed pleased when Luke told him of that goal. Was he a pilot also? Taking a sip from the water that sat beside him, Luke connected the last wire and leaned back, surveying the fruits of his labor. Did it work? He hoped so-spending the last five or so days in that room was more than enough for him.

Exhausted, he stood up and stretched his arms and legs, yawning. He wondered if Vader stretched. Did he need to? Or did his mechanical appendages never need to? He examined his own mechanical hand. He had had the habit of cracking his knuckles, and had attempted to do so once without thinking, and it hadn't worked. Yawning a second time, he tried to communicate through the Force, and do as he had felt briefly when Vader had spoken to him telepathically. Struggling, he thought, _Father?_

_Yes?_ The response came immediately in that strange mind-voice of Vader. Luke was so excited that it had worked that he severed the connection and worked to rebuild it quickly.

_I'm done, I think._

_I'm busy right now. Use the Force to open the door._

_What? How?_

_Focus on the Force-the energy you feel right now-and push it towards the door. Imagine it opening the door. If you do it correctly, the door will open._

But-Luke began to protest before Vader left his mind abruptly. Straining, he tried to reform the connection, but to no avail. Finally, he turned his attention back to the cursed door. Sighing, he tried to feel the energy, and found it more easily than he had the last time, when he had been excited over the completion of the rebuilding. Okay, he thought to himself. Open the door.

Nothing happened.

He tried again, focusing on the feeling that the Force produced. He held out his hands, as if willing the energy to pass through them, and squeezed his eyes shut. _Open_.

He was almost afraid to open his eyes, but when he did, he was amazed. The door had opened the width of a hand-span. Excitedly, he tried again, and this time it opened all the way. Euphoric, he jumped up. "Yes!" he sang out. To his surprise, six Stormtroopers were staring at him. Slightly afraid, he said, "Um... You're so supposed to show me where to go," he said.

"Yes, sir," said the first one. "Follow us, sir."

Slightly bewildered at the title that he had been given, Luke followed the group down as series of halls that looked all the same. He felt as though they had walked for hours when they finally stopped. This was a ship? It didn't seem possible that something so big could possibly exist. There was a door that looked like all the others had that had the words "Pilot Training Barracks-Group 1" on the identification panel beside it and a keypad at the waist level of the first Stormtrooper. He pressed a button, and the door slid open to reveal a large room with ten bunk beds and little else.

There were nine boys all sitting at desks at the front of the bunks. Their heads all turned automatically to see Luke. "You are to receive initiation. This is now your room," said the first Stormtrooper. "If there are any problems, contact your Squad Captain."

With that, the six turned and left and the door slid closed.

All the boys immediately stood up and the tallest, a black boy with a shaved head, walked up. He was wearing a slightly different uniform than all the rest-he had a black bar on both shoulders. "What's your name, trainee?" he barked authoritatively.

"Uh-Luke Skywalker," said Luke, unsure of himself.

The boy's eyes narrowed. "Trainee Jisk, instruct Trainee Skywalker on the proper way to address a superior officer."

What? This boy was an officer? How? He looked to be fourteen or fifteen, at most.

One of the other boys, a thin one with a shock of brown hair, walked up to Luke. "Address Captain Lang using 'sir' at all times," he explained in a quiet voice.

Luke nodded and the nine boys stared at him expectantly.

"Well?" Captain Lang snapped.

"Uh-my name is Luke Skywalker. Sir," said Luke awkwardly. This certainly was not what he had expected.

Suddenly, Lang's arm swung around and caught him in the jaw. Luke cried out and stumbled back. "I'll tolerate no cheek. If you are the replacement for Trainee Barak, you will be expected to take up his duties," said Lang. He turned back to Trainee Jisk. "Show Skywalker the ropes. You're to watch over him until he gets the hang of things. Everyone, return to duty," he said. "I'm going to report Skywalker's arrival to Commander Beinn." With that, he left the room, walking purposefully down the hallway.

As soon as the door slid shut, the group of boys turned to Luke. "Looks like you got on his bad side, Skywalker," said a pale boy, who held out his hand. "I'm Len Darmic."

Luke shook it. "Nice to meet you, Len," he said, overwhelmed. The other boys laughed. "What?" he asked.

"Refer to everyone by their last names," Trainee Jisk said with a smile. "I'm Jisk."

"Why?"

"Because they believe that calling everyone by their first names creates closeness that can impair the pilot if a friend is shot down," said another boy, crossing his arms. "I'm Vaskall."

"How did you get on here anyway, if you don't even know basic protocol?" Another boy, one who hung back from the others. He had black hair and a thin, pale face. Luke disliked him immediately.

"Shut up, Dase," said Vaskall derisively. He seemed to be the second-in-command, or something, because Dase did as he was told.

"Why did Lang hit me?" Luke asked, touching the sore spot on his jaw.

"Because he can," said Jisk. "You've got rotten luck. Lang is the worst captain of all the groups, and he doesn't like you."

"He's not the worst captain. He's very able and an excellent pilot," said Vaskall loyally.

"Maybe so, but he's still rotten," said Jisk. "You better hope you're up to his standards. How are you on TIE sims?"

"TIE what?" Luke asked, confused.

There was silence. "How did you get to be here?" asked Darmic. "We all had to go through major tests before they even considered us. We all had at least 100 hours on TIE simulations before they let us on. They kick out Barak for no good reason to bring in you?"

There was no malice in Darmic's voice, just confusion.

Luke wished he could tell them the truth, but he remembered that Vader had prohibited him from saying anything. "I... uh... Darth Vader found me on Tatooine and decided I had potential," he mumbled, hoping it would pass their scrutiny.

They all let out awed breaths. "No way! You've talked to Lord Vader?" Jisk asked, amazed. "He put you here?"

"He talked to me once!" said Darmic excitedly.

They all groaned, clearly having heard this story. "Sith, Darmic, he said one word to you!" Vaskall said exasperatedly.

"I heard that he's from a planet where they breathe poisonous gas. That's why he wears the mask," said Jisk conspiratorially. He shivered. "I heard that if he took it off, he could kill people by breathing on them."

"I heard that he can kill people without even touching them," said another boy, who shuddered.

"Did you know that he holds all the records for all the simulators?" said another boy.

Luke was so overwhelmed with the volume of inaccurate information that it was a moment before he comprehended the last bit. He felt a rush of pride.

"You're making it up," said Dase nastily. "Lord Vader would never talk to you."

Luke felt a rush of anger at the boy. "Who says?"

"You've never even been in a TIE sim," said Dase. "I'm the best flyer in this group. Don't mess with me."

"Shut your mouth, Dase," said Vaskall in a warning tone. "Or I'll recommend a transfer."

Dase fell silent.

In an effort to recreate the easy-going atmosphere, Jisk said, "I had a nightmare about Lord Vader once..."

The other boys laughed. "Who hasn't? You remember the time when he killed Commander Dact?"

They all shivered in unison. "He lifted him off the ground with one hand," said Vaskall. "By the throat! He was like two feet of the ground, and Lord Vader wasn't even straining!"

Luke remembered the lightsaber that had killed his aunt and uncle and the faux Anakin Skywalker. He shivered. The lightsaber that had cut off his hand. He may be Vader's son, but he was still terrified of him. And the stories weren't helping.

Suddenly the door opened at Lang reentered. "We're doing flight sims this afternoon. Right now, lunch. Let's go," he said, turning and leaving the room as abruptly as he had entered.

Jisk grabbed Luke's arm. "Let's go, Skywalker."

The food was nothing like what he had grown up with on Tatooine. They ate some sort of tough brown bread and some other things-green things-that Luke had never seen before. After having barely eaten for two days, though, Luke was ravenous and ate everything in front of him. "Slow down, Skywalker. When's the last time you had a real meal?" Vaskall questioned.

Luke shrugged. "When do we learn to fly real TIE fighters?"

Jisk snorted. "Not until we're sixteen. Then we've got another two years of training-that is, unless you're good at it-until we're officially pilots."

"And since none of us is Darth Vader, it looks like we've all got fours years to go," said Vaskall."

Luke smiled at the irony of the situation until he noticed Dase sitting by himself, staring moodily at his plate. His smile vanished. "Is he really the best?"

Jisk's expression darkened. "His father is a General, really high up. He's practically grown up on the Executor. His older brother was a pilot and taught him really well, so he's got more experience than all of us..." Jisk trailed off.

"He's a bad leader," said Vaskall. "Can't make decisions. So, Lang was chosen as Group Captain and he's been bitter since. He's gotten Lang in trouble plenty of times over stupid stuff with his father and all. Don't mess with him, or you'll be out of the program and off the ship before you can say, 'rebellion.'"

Luke thought a moment. He obviously would not be in any danger from Dase... but still he didn't want to be enemies with him, either. He stood up for a second and walked over there. "Skywalker, what are you doing?" Jisk called, bewildered.

"Hey, Dase," said Luke awkwardly.

Dase glared daggers at him. "What do you want?" he spat.

"Listen... I think we got off on the wrong foot," he said, undeterred. He held out his hand. "Truce?"

"Get away from me, Skywalker," Dase snarled. "Don't ever presume to talk to me again, or I'll have my father kick you off this ship. You'll go back to Tatooine where you belong."

Anger bubbled up in Luke, and he opened his mouth to say exactly what he would do to him with the Force, but he stopped himself just in time.

"That's right," Dase said with a wicked grin. "Go back to your little friends, Skywalker."

Furious, Luke turned and went back to Jisk and the others. "Told you, Skywalker," said Darmic. "Don't mess with him."

_You don't know the half of it_, Luke thought angrily, gripping his glass bottle angrily.

_Excuse me?_ A familiar voice said in the back of Luke's mind.

_Sorry_, said Luke quickly. _I was thinking about... one of the other trainees._

_You're angry._

_There's this trainee named Dase who thinks he's untouchable,_ Luke told his father. _He's been messing with me._

_General Dase's son?_

_Yeah,_ Luke replied

_Use the Force to deal with him, Luke._ With that, their mind-connection was broken. Luke, still angry, gripped his bottle tighter and tighter until it shattered, showering bits of glass everywhere.

"Hold on, there, Skywalker!" Jisk shouted, staring at him. "How in the Sith's name did you do that?"

Luke realized that the abnormal strength of his mechanical hand had done it. "I..." He decided that he could just tell them the truth. "I have a mechanical hand," he told Jisk, showing him his right hand. "Didn't realize how hard I was gripping it."

Jisk stared at him in surprise as a clean-up droid whirred over and sucked up the glass and spilt water.

"How'd it happen?" asked Vaskall interestedly.

Luke thought quickly. "Speeder accident," he said. "Last year. I was twelve," he told him.

"Hold on, how old are you?" Darmic asked, surprised. "You're only thirteen?"

"You just keep surprising us, Skywalker," said Jisk, taking a mouthful of food.

That afternoon, Lang led them into a room with strange, pod-like devices, each with a number on them. He turned to the group. "Everyone into their sims. Evens, you're a team. Odds, you're the other team. Whichever teams lasts longest has two hours of free time tonight." He turned to Luke. "Until you prove yourself to be better than a 10, that's your number. Go to your groups."

Jisk turned to Luke. "I'm 4. Vaskall's 2, and Darmic's 6. Welcome to the evens, Skywalker."

"Thanks," said Luke nervously. "Who's 8?"

"I am," said a short boy. "I'm Jons."

An older man walked into the room and cast a wary look at Luke. He had obviously been informed of his parentage, Luke realized. "I'll be grading you all this afternoon. Captain Lang, get underway," he said.

Lang saluted. "Yes, Master Commander Dirk. Group 1, enter your sims," he barked.

The groups rushed to climb in the pod-devices and Luke did the same, placing the helmet over his face. He stared at the controls. They looks more or less the same as speeder controls-with a few added switches and lights, of course. He steeled himself.

"Evens, this is B2 speaking. B10, you're my wingman. B8, you're wingman for B4. B6, you're recon. A1 favors a sneak attack, so you're all going to have to be vigilant." Luke recognized Vaskall's voice over the two-way Comm device in the helmet. He looked in the radar screen and saw blips with numbers on them. He saw himself as 'B10.'

"All right, let's get moving. B6, get up there."

Luke saw the blip with B6 on it zoom forward. He reached down and grabbed the controls, knowing innately how to maneuver the craft. He felt exhilaration at the sensation of flying and zoomed over to Vaskall's TIE fighter.

"B6 reporting that north is clear," came Darmic's voice. "B6 moving to recon east."

Luke glanced down at his radar and saw a blip with 'A3' on it racing towards Jons' ship.

His anger returning in an instant, Luke considered leaving Vaskall's side. It was wrong to target Jons, if he was only an 8! Making up his mind, Luke swerved away and raced towards the confrontation. "A3 attacking B8," he explained over their Comm device. "B10 going to help."

"B10, B6 will engage A3," said Vaskall's voice. "You don't have enough experience, B10."

Ignoring him, Luke saw through the screen Jons' TIE fighter trying desperately to fend off Dase's expert handling. Angry, he flew his TIE to the left of Dase's ship. Dase didn't seem to realize that he was there as Luke let out a barrage of laser fire.

He hit the side of Dase's ship, but it didn't explode. Dase turned quickly and rushed towards Luke's ship, but Luke pulled back at the last second and turned, letting out more fire. This time, Dase's ship exploded.

Luke grinned. "You all right, B8?"

"Skywalker?" Jons was surprised. "I owe you one, B10!"

"Good work, B10, despite blatant disregard for orders," came Vaskall's voice. He sounded impressed. "But you're still my wingman. A1 and A9 approaching. Get back here, B10."

Group B won the exercise. Luke destroyed A9, Lang's wingman, and then joined in the attack on Lang himself. With Vaskall, they destroyed the ship and then raced to help Darmic, who was getting double-teamed by A5 and A7. His ship was destroyed, but Jisk and Jons came to help them destroy the remaining members of Group A.

In all, the exercise lasted for only twenty-one minutes. They climbed out of the ships and the team all congratulated Luke, excited. Normally the sims took much longer. "Nice job, Skywalker," said Darmic, though he was subdued considering his had been the only ship lost in an otherwise perfect run.

Jons came up to Luke. "Thanks, Skywalker," he said gratefully. "Dase does that every time... Now the team practically accepts that I'll get knocked out early."

"Obey orders next time, Skywalker," said Vaskall, but Luke could tell he was pleased. "It's pretty impressive that you shot down Dase. This isn't going to make him like you any better, you know." He paused for a second. "We've never gone that fast. I've never heard of anyone going that fast, either."

"Excellent job, Group A," said Commander Dirk, peering at Luke with confusion and almost fear. "Impressive run, Skywalker." He turned to the group. "Let's go discuss this performance." Luke followed the others in an adjoining room with a large holo-broadcast platform on a table. "Sit down," he told them. Group A, subdued, did as they were told, and Group B did so with smiles, still excited over their win.

Commander Dirk pressed a button and immediately holo-projections of their TIE fighters showed up. They watched the entire run through in silence.

"Group A, explain yourselves."

"We underestimated the prowess of B10," said Lang immediately. "It will not happen again."

"Trainee Skywalker has never done a simulation in his life," said Dirk, crossing his arms.

All nine boys stared at Luke, Dase looking particularly murderous. "He seems to have a knack for it," Vaskall offered.

"Evidently so. Dase, how did you allow yourself to be fooled by the side-step?" Dirk turned his attention to the pale boy. "You lost control of your emotions once again. That is why you will never be the pilot you could be. That is why Skywalker beat you today."

"Commander, I was fighting B8 as well," Dase protested.

"So you are saying that an 8 and a 10 were too much for you to handle, while Darmic managed A5 and A7 for approximately four minutes longer?" Dirk was clearly upset with Dase.

He turned to Darmic. "You're promoted to A3, Darmic. Skywalker, take Darmic's spot. Dase"-he paused. "You're off the squad until you have a handle on your emotions. When you return, you'll take B10. You must prove yourself to be capable."

There were no words to describe Dase's emotion. He glared at Dirk. "I'll have my father demote you!" he snarled, standing up.

Dirk looked nonplussed. "My squads have consistently been the best in the Imperial Navy, Dase. I doubt that Lord Vader would take kindly to my dismissal, regardless from whom the recommendation came." Dirk inadvertently looked at Luke before quickly returning his attention to Dase. "Move your belongings to Room 9c, Dase. You're to remain there at all times. Meals will be given to you. Take some time to reflect upon your choices today."

Dase did nothing for a few minutes until he left the conference room in a flurry of emotion. "Group A, spend the next two hours reviewing group fighting strategy and planning your next sim without Dase. Group B, dismissed," said Dirk.

Vaskall, Jisk, Luke, and Jons stood and saluted the Commander. They turned to go, but Dirk said, "Skywalker, stay here."

Luke stopped and turned to face Dirk. "Sir?"

Dirk ushered him out into an adjoining room. "Skywalker, I would appreciate it if you do not speak to your father of the matter of Trainee Dase. I understand that Dase is not your favorite of the group, but if your father hears about his actions, he may punish the boy. I do not want that to happen. There is always a hotshot in a group, it's normal." Commander Dirk spoke very quickly.

Luke was surprised. The Commander thought that he was going to try and get his father to hurt Dase? "Sir..." he began slowly. "I fight my own battles."

"Yes, yes, of course," said Dirk hastily. "Go and enjoy your free time, Skywalker."

Luke saluted once more and let his feet carry him to the barracks. His father had said to use the Force to deal with Dase, to make him pay. He remembered the anger at the way the trainee had treated him at lunch time. His eyes narrowed. He did not need his father to help him defeat Dase.

He was absorbed in plots of revenge when he opened the door to the barracks and did not notice that Dase was within the room.

"YOU!"

Luke glanced upwards and saw Dase barrelling towards him. The other boy swung his fist and it crashed into his jaw, the same place that Lang had hit that morning. They crashed to the floor, Dase using his superior strength and size to pummel Luke. "How-dare-you-come-here-and-try-to-make-me-look-bad!" Dase yelled.

Luke finally got a hit in edgewise and scrambled out of the way. "You're supposed to be out of here," he said, breathing heavily and wincing as he stood up.

"Shut up! You don't know who you're messing with!" Dase's eyes were wild, and spittle flew from his mouth as he screamed at Luke. "My father will have your entire family killed! He'll send you to be a slave on the Outer Rim!"

Anger—close to the surface considering that Owen and Beru had died so recently-billowed up in Luke. He touched the Force and used it to strangle the other boy, not even realizing his actions. The effort exhausted him, and he maintained it only for a few moments before he let go. Dase coughed and stared at him, open-mouthed. "What are you? Some type of freak?" he was obviously scared. He backed up against the wall.

"Hardly," a new voice—the deep, inhuman voice that haunted half the Galaxy's nightmares-responded.

Dase looked over Luke's shoulder and all the color drained from his face and his jaw went slack. Luke did not need to focus to feel the unparalleled fear emanating from him. He turned slowly to see Vader standing impassively at the doorway.

"This is the trainee of whom you spoke?" he addressed Luke, who nodded. He walked into the barracks, his size dwarfing the room. "It seems that you need to learn a lesson in humility, son of General Dase," he said, using the Force to lift the boy to his feet. "I would advise you not to anger my son," he said.

Dase seemed unresponsive in his fear as Vader approached him. "Do you understand, trainee?"

The boy suddenly seemed to come to his senses. He nodded furiously, gasping, "Yes, my lord, sir, I understand."

Vader turned away, letting go of the Force and causing the boy to fall to the ground. Luke looked on admiringly. "Come with me," he said tersely.

Luke, sensing the power that was always at the surface of his father's mind, nodded and followed him out of the room.

The corridors immediately cleared themselves as Vader strode through, Luke following at his heels, feeling even shorter than normal. If Vader was his father, why could he not have inherited some of his height?

Luke was startled as Vaskall, Jisk, and Jons suddenly came down another corridor, talking animatedly until they saw Vader with Luke close behind. They all stared at Luke, who winced. How would he explain this one?

Luke lost track of how many elevators and corridors they took. Finally, Vader turned down a hall that had only a door at the end. He walked towards it and it opened just in time for he and Luke to enter.

It was a large room with a durable floor. It was well lit, but there was nothing else in it. "Whenever you have free time—and many times when you do not—you will come here for your training. The time you spend here is far more important than TIE simulations," Vader told him.

Remembering a fact from this morning's talk about his father, Luke burst out, "Is it true that you hold all the records for the simulations?"

Vader cocked his head slightly at Luke, a mannerism that seemed to indicate amusement. "Where did you hear that?"

"One of the other boys," said Luke lamely.

Vader was silent for a few moments. "Yes, it's true. That is why I was not surprised at your performance this afternoon. Though I am curious as to why I was a topic of conversation."

"How do you know how I did at the sim?" Luke asked, choosing to ignore Vader's last comment.

"Your exhilaration was easily felt, my son," said Vader with another trace of amusement. "I was in the middle of an interrogation at the time. It proved an interesting experience."

"Oh," said Luke.

"Right now, I am going to begin to teach you to fence," said Vader, unhooking what Luke knew to be his lightsaber. He unhooked another one as well, and dropped it on the ground. "Pick it up," he instructed Luke.

Luke started towards it but was stopped by an invisible hand. "Use the Force," Vader commanded.

Luke looked at his father. "What?"

"Did you not hear me?"

Sighing, Luke recalled the anger he felt for Dase. Already he could tell that it was easier to use the Force that way. He concentrated on the lightsaber, willing the Force to push it to his hand.

After a second of focus, the lightsaber flew to his hand. He looked at it, as if surprised to see it in his hand.

"Well done," said Vader. "Use both hands to hold it, like this," he said, showing Luke how to hold the weapon by demonstrating with his own. Luke emulated the hand placements, taking care to angle the cylinder away from himself. "Now press the button beneath your left thumb."

Luke did so and the lightsaber hummed to life. It was a bluish white color and Luke waved it around experimentally, excited. This felt nothing like the weapon of the Jedi, on Tatooine. That one had felt delicate, almost as if it wasn't real. This one-it thrilled him. He felt powerful with it.

"Always pay attention to your opponent," said Vader, lifting his own and igniting it.

Luke shivered once he saw the blood-red blade--the blade that had killed Aunt Beru, the blade that had cut off his hand--He was terrified of it. He stepped away. "I"-

"Do not lose focus," said Vader. "And do not fear the weapon."

"I can't not fear it!" Luke exclaimed.

"Fear is for the weak," said Vader. "Those such as Dase fear things-you must go beyond that. You must become the object of their fear. You cannot do so if you are a slave to fear yourself," he explained. "The lightsaber does not hold the power, Luke-you do. You hold it in your hands."

It suddenly seemed to make sense. Why would he fear the lightsaber, of all things? It was completely irrational, Luke realized.

Good, Luke. You begin to understand. Luke heard his father's voice in his head.

"On guard," said Vader, projecting a mental image of what he wanted. Luke understood and obeyed, adjusting his footing.

Vader showed him how to thrust and parry and then had Luke copy the actions. He showed him how to block, and to use the Force to overpower someone of greater strength.

After half an hour, Vader backed away. "Are you ready?"

"What?"

"You have a set of perfectly useable ears," said Vader, annoyed. "Do not incessantly ask, 'what?'"

"Sorry," Luke mumbled.

"You are going to be on the offensive," said Vader. "Begin as soon as you wish."

Luke steeled himself and brought his lightsaber down in a fierce thrust that Vader countered easily. Luke parried and attempted to thrust again. He began to grow tired as he was constantly blocked. He lost concentration for one second and then cried out as he felt his father's lightsaber swing by his cheek, the close proximity scorching his skin.

He dropped his lightsaber and held his hands to his face, still breathing heavily.

"Never let go of your weapon," said Vader, kicking the lightsaber away. "You lost focus."

"I'm tired," said Luke, gasping for air.

"Use the Force," said Vader.

"But"-

"My lungs barely function and I am more than twenty years your senior, Luke," said Vader impatiently. "If I can manage, I think you are able to as well." Luke said nothing. Vader's respirator let out a particularly loud "whoosh" and it occurred to Luke that he was sighing. "You have done well. You are a quick learner." Vader turned off his lightsaber and hooked it to his waist. "When you return to your barracks, I want you to meditate."

"Meditate?" Luke asked, bewildered.

"Yes," said Vader. "Relax, and reach for the Force. You will know when you do it," he said, holding out his hand to accept Luke's fallen lightsaber, which had lifted off the ground.

At the last second, it swerved over to Luke, who grinning. "Can I keep it?"

"No,

One of the other boys, a thin onoing off to become a Sith," he reasoned. "And you already said I couldn't tell them who I was."

"You are intelligent enough to think of something," said Vader unconcernedly. "Go. You're dismissed."

Luke had no idea how he managed to find his way back to the barracks. He received several strange looks. He still wore his trainee uniform, but the injury on his cheek did not seem like one a student pilot should have received. He opened the door to the barracks, dreading the reception he knew was coming.

As he predicted, Vaskall, Jisk, and Jons rush towards him. "Why were you with Lord Vader?" Jisk exclaimed. "And what happened to your cheek? That looks pretty nasty," he observed, peering closely at the lightsaber burn.

"I fell," said Luke lamely.

"You were with Lord Vader?" Lang asked suddenly, walking towards Luke. "Why?"

"He-uh-wanted to see how I was doing," Luke lied, knowing that it was a pathetic excuse.

Lang looked at him suspiciously. "That two almost an hour and a half?"

Luke shrugged. "Lost track of time," he mumbled.

It does not feel as though you're meditating.

Luke jumped. Well I'm trying to explain why I-a trainee-was with you!

There was a strange laugh from the other end-a sound Luke was certain was not feasible through Vader's physical form. He focused his attention back on his groupmates. "I'm kind of tired," he muttered, walking to the empty bed.

"Hold on," said Jons, procuring something from his pocket. "Here. A Bacta patch. It'll heal your cheek."

"Thanks," said Luke, gratified.

"You're not getting away so easily," said Jisk impatiently. He grabbed Luke's arm. "Tell us what he's like."

Luke sat down on the bed and the others crowded around him. "Well..." he began. He was tired and his head hurt. "He's tall," he offered.

Jisk snorted. "No way."

Luke sighed. What could he tell them? Jisk was obviously not going to give up. "He has a really short temper. And... he can move stuff without touching it."

"Whoa," said the other boys in unison.

"I heard that he's got a laser sword thing," said Vaskall. "Did you see it?"

"His lightsaber?" said Luke without thinking. Well, he's been on the receiving end of it. Twice. He glanced down at his wrist without realizing it. "Yeah, I saw it." And I dueled him, Luke thought with a touch of pride.

The other boys let out huge breaths. "Wow."

"I'm really tired..." Luke mumbled.

They took the hint. "Fine," said Jisk. "You can tell us tomorrow."

* * *

More coming up...


	4. Secret Exposed

Another Route

Part Four

**Disclaimer:** Yeah, yeah, yeah…

Author's Note: A lot of you commented on the fact that Vader seemingly ignored the fact that he didn't want the boys to find out he was Luke's father. It wasn't an accident—I wrote it on purpose, so as to HAVE Dase tell the others. This happens in this chapter. As to Vader's reasoning… I believe that's in Part Five.

**Warnings:** ROTS warnings, as usual. Also, some heavy AU (as if this isn't?) and I manipulated the traditional parameters of the Force a little to suit my plot.

That said, thanks to EVERYONE for all your awesome comments and I want to let you all know how happy I am that you're enjoying this story. Sorry this has taken a little while, but I completely rewrote Four and Five (and Six, come to think of it) because I felt things were moving too quickly. Let me know if there are some things you like/dislike or want to see more/less of. I hope you enjoy it!

* * *

Luke attempted to meditate once the others had decided to leave him alone, but his training with Vader had left him emotionally and physically drained. He climbed into the bed that was unused and tried to block out the talk of the other boys and the throbbing on his cheek but to no avail. Finally, he succumbed to sleep, only to realize that he was facing Obi-Wan, his lightsaber—a blue one—extended.

_"I have the higher ground," Obi-Wan said._

_"You underestimate my powers!" Luke shouted._

_Luke felt himself gather the Force, but to a level that he knew he was not capable of. He bent his knees and jumped, soaring over the lava flow, over Obi-Wan's head—but all of the sudden, he felt searing pain on his legs and arm, and he began to fall, a scream erupting from his throat—_

_And suddenly he was on the ground again, and Luke remembered well what happened next, but this time— _

The dream shifted, the edges blurred and the scenery around him changed. He was standing and the pain had vanished. They were on a beautiful, lush planet that Luke had never seen the likes of before.

"Use the Force to stop that dream," said a voice, a familiar one that Luke had heard many times in his mind.

He turned around to see a tall man with blond hair and blue eyes like his own, in perhaps his mid-thirties. He was wearing a simple black tunic with a leather surcoat and leather leggings. A lightsaber hung at his belt.

Luke mustered his voice. "Who are you?"

The man raised his eyebrows. "You do not recognize me in this form, I suppose," he said, raising his hands. The vision shifted slightly, and blurred, and when it cleared again, Luke could see the menacing figure of Darth Vader staring back at him. The land around them had changed as well, to a desert.

"Father?" he blurted out, surprised.

"Your nightmares will continue to affect you until you learn to control them through the Force, Luke," said the deep, terrifying voice. "You must remember that nothing is set in stone when you are dreaming. If you focus on the Force, you will be able to stop the dream."

"I think I like you better the other way," said Luke before he could stop himself.

"So do I," said Vader, though he did not change back. "We will use this medium to continue your training if I do not have time during the day."

"What?"

"How many times must I tell you to stop saying 'what' as your primary response?" Vader asked, clearly irritated. "I hoped to escape your incessant questioning and outright disobedience if I surprised you enough this way."

"But… I don't understand," said Luke, gesturing the landscape around him. "How can you train me here? Isn't this a dream?"

"Perhaps you cannot learn to fence here," Vader conceded. "For that is something your body needs to learn. But I can teach you things about the Force that I simply do not have the time for during the day."

"Will I be tired when I wake up?" Luke asked warily.

"You are not exactly sleeping," said Vader. "This is more of a relaxed form of meditation."

"So the answer is yes?" said Luke, groaning.

"If you meditate often enough, you will not need to sleep," said Vader, waving a dismissive hand.

"Where were we?" Luke asked, remembering the landscape that they had first appeared on. He had never seen so many plants in his life. In fact, the only plants he _had _seen were on datapads. "What planet?"

Vader ignored him. "I want you to practice using the Force to move physical things," he said. "You did so capably with the lightsaber and with the door. Soon you will not need to focus as much. It will become second nature."

"Do you live on the _Executor_?" Luke asked suddenly.

"Were you listening to me?" Vader countered.

"Yes. But, do you?"

Vader said nothing for a few moments. "No."

"So you have a house?"

Vader cocked his head in the gesture Luke was associating with amusement. "Why?"

Luke shrugged, feeling suddenly embarrassed. "I don't know. I was just wondering if I would go with you when you go on vacation, or something…"

Vader seemed surprised. "Vacation?"

"Well, I mean, you can't do this all of the time, can you?" Luke said. "Nobody works all the time." Vader was silent and motionless for a few moments, until Luke broke the quiet. "Can you please just turn back into—your other self?" He asked, frustrated. "At least I can kind of read you then! I have a tough enough time when I'm awake that I don't want to try and guess at your mood when I'm asleep, too!"

Vader let out a strange sound Luke realized was akin to laughter. "Very well," he said, and the scene blurred for a third time, and he became the man that Luke had first seen. He held his arms behind his back. "I am the only man that the Emperor trusts completely to carry out his bidding," Vader—though, he did not look much like Vader to Luke—began. "Therefore, I spend most of my time doing so."

"Do you like General Dase?" Luke asked.

"I was under the impression that this time was to be spent learning the ways of the Force," said Vader, crossing his arms.

"Do you?"

The Sith sighed, giving up. "I do not have personal relationships with the men under my command."

"But is he a good guy?" Luke asked, pressing for an answer.

"He is from a world where he and his family were the rulers. They also heavily practiced slavery, which I have since abolished. For that reason, I believe him to be a miserable excuse for a sentient being. But, if you are thinking about the incident with his son," Vader began. "I can arrange to have him removed. Though, I would think that you could handle a fourteen-year-old cadet on a misguided power trip."

"He's been lording over me," said Luke, his visage darkening.

Vader looked suddenly pleased. "Use that anger, Luke," he urged the boy, who looked at him, somewhat surprised. "It will help you to grow more powerful."

"Uncle Owen always taught me to be forgiving," said Luke slowly.

"That is why he is dead," said the Sith, and Luke saw a shadow of the deep voice and terrifying suit pass over the man. "He forgave the Jedi for trying to take over the Galaxy."

"But…" Luke began. "Didn't the Emperor take over the Galaxy?"

Luke suddenly knew that he had made a terrible mistake. His father's eyes darkened and the blue seemed to vanish. "Emperor Palpatine has brought peace to the Galaxy, with my help," he said in a low, dangerous voice. "The Galactic Senate _elected _him to be the Emperor."

"Oh," Luke mumbled, turning away.

The air seemed to clear. "We're done for now. Perhaps next time you will not be as inquisitive and you will get some work done," said Vader, slowly beginning to fade. Luke's surroundings melted away and he realized that he was being shaken.

"Come on, Skywalker, we haven't got all day," came the voice of Darmic, pulling him from his sleep.

Luke opened his eyes groggily. "It's about time!" Jisk explained. "Let's go. I'm hungry, Skywalker, and we can't leave without you."

Luke sat up. "What time is it?"

"It's 0600," said Vaskall. "Breakfast is in fifteen minutes. Let's go."

Luke groaned. He had thought that meditation was supposed to take the place of sleep! "I'm getting up," he muttered, sliding off his bed. A glass of water was pressed into his hand. Luke looked down to see Jons, who still seemed inordinately grateful to him. "Here, Skywalker."

"Don't crush this one, this time," said Jisk jokingly.

Luke rolled his eyes and downed it. "Thanks," he told Jons, who shrugged. "Where's the 'fresher?"

Darmic pointed to a room off to the side. "In there."

When Luke returned, he was feeling slightly better, though not by much. He had dressed in a clean uniform and brushed back his hair, though he had not had time to take a shower. t_hat _he was saving for later. He still couldn't believe the excess of water on the _Executor_.

"Come on, Skywalker," said Jisk impatiently, grabbing Luke's arm and dragging him out of the door.

After breakfast, the group began heading towards the TIE simulators. Jisk took the opportunity to walk with Luke. "So, why is Lord Vader so interested in you?" he asked in a low voice.

Luke felt his heartbeat increase. He had never been good at lying. "I don't know," he said forcefully.

"You don't know."

Luke glanced at Jisk, whose eyes had somehow glazed over. Soon they cleared up and Jisk smiled at Luke. "So, you going to deliver another performance or what?"

Luke was bewildered. What had happened? Why had Jisk done that? Suddenly he realized what had happened—he had used the Force to get Jisk to stop asking questions! He grinned suddenly. He hadn't even meant to!

"What's up with you?" Jisk asked suddenly, raising his eyebrows at Luke's inane grin.

"Nothing," said Luke cheerfully as they walked into the training sim room.

"All right. Group B, you're going to be without B10," said Commander Dirk as soon as they entered. "So this is an exercise on how to fight when you're outnumbered and outclassed. If you last for over thirty minutes, you'll get another two hours of free time tonight. Commander Dirk looked at the group of determined young faces. He smiled to himself._Come . _

Luke started and the whole group looked at him. "Why so jumpy, Skywalker?" asked Vaskall. Lang observed him shrewdly. "I—uh"—Luke began awkwardly. _Right now?_

_Do not ask me pointless questions,_ came the annoyed voice of his father. Luke started to sweat. "I've got to go," he said hurriedly.

"What?" Darmic exclaimed. "What are you talking about?"

"Trainee Skywalker, you will remain…" Dirk trailed off as Luke ran out of the room.

The room erupted. "Where does he think he's going?" Jisk raged. "We can't fly two guys short!" He turned to Commander Dirk. "Commander, are you just letting him go?" he asked angrily.

Commander Dirk seemed uncomfortable with the situation. "Run the sim as usual," he said finally.

"What?" Darmic burst out. "But we can't"—

"Trainee Darmic, are you accustomed to speaking out of turn with your commanding officer?" Dirk questioned firmly.

Darmic fell silent and climbed in the sim without another word. The rest of Group B followed him.

Luke walked as quickly down the halls as he could without arousing an extreme amount of curiosity. Why now, of all times, did his father want to speak with him? The whole group had to be furious at him!

He groaned inwardly as a set of stormtroopers came marching towards him. He would look suspicious, a pilot trainee in this part of the ship. "Halt!" The leading stormtrooper said, raising his hand. "Pilot Trainee! What is your business on this part of the ship?"

"I"—Luke began. "I—uh—Lord Vader wants to see me," he said, knowing that the truth would seem ridiculous.

There was a murmur of laughter from the ten stormtroopers. "Pilot Trainee, you are to report back to your quarters and remain there for the rest of the day. Effective immediately," said the stormtrooper.

"No!" Luke protested. "I've got to go see him!"

"Why? Is he consulting you for piloting advice?" The stormtrooper asked. His command laughed again, infuriating Luke.

Luke focused on his anger and annoyance and raised his hands, hoping that he would be able to use the Force to do what he was attempting. As if he was pushing the energy to the stormtroopers, he pushed his hands towards them. For a brief second, Luke felt power surge through him, and he opened his eyes to see all the troopers on the ground. They started to get up, and Luke ecstatic at his performance, ran past them, hoping that they would be surprised enough that they wouldn't go after him immediately.

As he ran Luke couldn't help but mull over his action. He had felt so much power—he could have done anything he wanted. Once he was completely trained, they would be completely at his mercy. No one would dare to cross him then.

But, he was not there yet, Luke realized as he heard the sound of the troopers following him and shouting. He increased his speed—if only he could make it to the training room—

Suddenly, he crashed into an immense, cloaked figure and fell to the ground. Dreading what he would see, Luke up to see Vader staring at him. "I do not believe I told you that you needed to run here," he said, crossing his arms.

The run through countless halls had tired Luke more than he realized. "I—the stormtroopers," he managed, standing up, grateful that Vader didn't seem to be angry.

"You're running from stormtroopers?" Vader asked. Luke pictured the blond man from his dream raising his eyebrows.

"Well, I—they didn't believe me," said Luke lamely. He brightened. "I used the Force to send them to the ground, though!"

Vader was looking past him, at the stormtroopers running towards them. They ground to a halt, though, once they saw Vader, and one of them came up. "My lord, we found this boy—this pilot trainee—attempting to contact you," said the strormtrooper. "He—ah"—

Luke knew he was struggling to explain the use of the Force, and grinned to himself. "Stormtrooper BT92-01, are you accustomed to endeavor to halt the progress of my son when I wish to speak to him?"

There was silence as the squad of stormtroopers comprehended Vader's words. The Sith himself stood, unmoving, with his arms crossed. "My lord…your son?"

"Yes," said Vader, motioning towards Luke, who now stood at his father's side. "My son."

If stormtroopers could register any emotions through their helmets, Luke knew that they would all be very, very pale. "I—we—had no idea, Lord Vader," said BT92-01 weakly. "It will not happen again."

"Of course it won't. Or you'll be dead," said Vader nonchalantly. "Luke, come." He turned and strode down the hall and Luke struggled to keep up with his father's long strides.

"You were _messing _with them!" said Luke, grinning.

"I was impressing them of the facts," said Vader. "You used the Force," he stated. "I felt it. Well done."

"Thanks," said Luke, panting as he tried to follow the Sith. "But you were _playing_with them!" he repeated delightedly.

"I do not 'play' with those under my command," said Vader. "From now on you will accompany me every day at this time."

"But… my group is supposed to be in a TIE sim right now, and they're going to be really mad at me…"

Vader slowed for a second to allow Luke to catch up. "Do you really believe your pilot training to be more important than learning the Force?"

"Well, no—of course not," said Luke quickly, sensing the anger just below the surface. "It's just… I can't exactly tell the true reason for my being gone all the time. What am I supposed to do? And plus, if Dase tells them what happened the other day"—

"You have no need of TIE training," said Vader. "I will teach you myself."

"But—I _like _them!" Luke protested as they walked into the large, empty room of the previous night.

"You are above them," said Vader, unclipping the spare lightsaber and tossing it to Luke, who caught it deftly.

"But…"

Vader stared at him for a second. "Tell them if you wish. Your anonymity will be lost. Fourteen-year-old boys do not keep secrets such as this." With that, he activated his lightsaber. "On guard."

* * *

Luke was on autopilot as he stumbled back to the barracks. Vader had dueled with him for over two hours, never seeming to tire himself, of course. Then, he had made Luke practice mind control on an unsuspecting mechanic who happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. He punched in the access code and walked inside, his shoulders slumped. He wanted nothing better than to get a few Bacta patches and climb in his bed.

"Have a nice walk?"

Luke glanced up at Darmic, who was staring at him furiously, his arms crossed. "I don't know where you come from, _Skywalker_, but where I'm from you don't walk out on your squad."

"I'm sorry," said Luke wearily. "I had to leave… I didn't have a choice."

"I suppose Lord Vader wanted to have a nice little chat again, didn't he?" Darmic said scathingly.

Anger boiled up in Luke. It was not _his _fault! "Look, I'm sorry, okay?" he shouted.

"That's not good enough," said Jisk, walking over from his bunk to stand next to Darmic. "Skywalker, you can't just run off whenever you want to. That's against military protocol."

"I told you, I didn't have a choice!"

Vaskall walked over. "What happened to you?" he asked, peering at the various burns Luke had on his exposed arms and hands.

Luke winced. Could he tell them? "Listen…"

"Did you _fall ?_" Darmic asked bitterly.

"We want to know what's going on, Skywalker," said Lang, coming up to back the others. He stared at Luke calculatingly.

Luke stared at their unforgiving faces. "You—you're not going to believe me," he said, sitting down on the bunk.

"Try us," said Jisk.

"I can't," said Luke. "You don't understand."

" _I _can tell you!" came a new voice from the door.

The group turned to see Dase leaning against the door. He avoided Luke's angry gaze. "What are you doing here, Dase?" Vaskall asked suspiciously.

Dase shrugged. "They decided they didn't want to mess with me," he said arrogantly. He glanced at Luke once and his eyes clouded over for the briefest second.

"Get out of here," said Luke tightly, clenching his fists. Would he tell them?

"What are you going to do, Skywalker?" Dase spat. "Are you going to have your daddy strangle me? The big, bad, bionic man? I bet he's not even human any more. All that's left is a bunch of mechanics!"

Luke struggled to control his fury as he stared at Dase. How dare that bastard talk about his father like that? He had absolutely no idea what the truth was! "You weren't as talkative yesterday, Dase," he spat.

"Skywalker, what's he talking about?" Vaskall asked slowly.

Luke could barely hear him through his anger. "Dase, get out of here," he said, his voice a careful mask of his emotions.

"Are you going to run to daddy, Skywalker?" Dase asked, smirking. "He can't do anything to me. My father wouldn't allow it."

"Is your father the Emperor, Dase? Because that's the only man in the galaxy that Darth Vader answers to."

All the boys swiveled to see Lang standing calmly behind them. In suddenly realization, Darmic, Jisk, and Vaskall turned back to Luke, whose anger had dissipated slightly. "_What_?" Jisk asked in disbelief.

Luke said nothing. Why did his father have to tell Dase about their relationship?

"That's where the burn came from, isn't it?" Lang continued. "He's training you. That's from his lightsaber."

Luke nodded slowly, wondering idly how Lang knew what a lightsaber was.

"Sith, Skywalker…" Darmic said, and then went pale. "I mean, not Sith"—

Luke shrugged. "You can see why I didn't want to tell you," he mumbled.

"Lord Vader is your _father_?"

"That's why I had to leave today, Luke mumbled. "I'm sorry."

"It's no problem," Darmic amended quickly, obviously terrified that he was going to get in trouble. "Don't worry about it—uh"—

"My name is the same, Darmic," said Luke.

"Right. Sorry, Skywalker," said Darmic nervously.

"If you're done groveling…?"

They all turned back to Dase, who looked miffed that he was not the center of attention.

"Dase, you're going to get it," said Vaskall. "I can't believe you talked about Lord Vader that way."

"What's he going to do? Choke me from his office?" Dase snapped. "It's not like Skywalker can do anything. Darth Vader might be able to do whatever he wants, but his son can't."

"You're being disrespectful, Dase," said Lang, his eyes narrowed.

Luke stood there, trying to calm himself. His anger practically begged him to use the Force, to give Dase what was coming to him—He stopped himself and took a deep breath. "It's time for you to go," he said, using the Force to impress Dase.

The other boy's eyes glazed over. "It's time for me to go," he repeated dumbly, turning and walking out of the room.

The other boys stared at Luke. "How…?"

"I don't want to talk about it," said Luke crossly, stalking towards the 'fresher.

* * *

"Viceroy, we have a problem," said Obi-Wan to the holo of Bail Organa.

The other man looked concerned. "What is it, Obi-Wan?"

"Luke," said Obi-Wan simply.

"What? What happened?" Bail asked quickly.

"Vader found him, Bail," said Obi-Wan. "He killed the Lars.'"

"No…" Bail gasped. "What about Luke? He didn't kill Luke, did he? He could not have!"

"That's the problem, Bail," said Obi-Wan gravely. "He _didn't _kill him."

"What do you mean?" Leia's adopted father asked. Suddenly he understood and his holo-image paled, if such a thing were possible. "He's _training _him?"

"Yes," said Obi-Wan heavily. "I failed once more," he said bitterly, before overcoming his emotions. The emotions of the Dark Side.

"Then… Leia…" Bail began.

"Is all we have left," finished Obi-Wan. "I'm sorry, Bail."

Bail looked as though he had been struck. "How did Anakin turn into this?" he asked sorrowfully. "How did he become this terrible creature?"

Obi-Wan repressed his guilt. "We need to protect Leia more than ever," he said. "If Anakin"—he stopped himself and took a deep breath. "If _Vader_finds her, all hope is lost."

"Oh, sorry, Skywalker," said Darmic as he jostled the boy as he tried to get to the 'fresher two weeks after they had found out about Luke's parentage. He backed out of the way. "You go ahead."

"Darmic," said Luke exasperatedly. "Go on. I'm not going to report you for cutting me in line, you know."

Darmic flushed. "Are you sure? Because, I mean, if you're not"—

"He said to go, Darmic," said Lang, walking up with his arms crossed.

"Right, of course," said Darmic hastily, jumping into the room and shutting the door. Luke let out a sigh. He had done his best to show his group that he was no different than they were, but to no avail.

"Are you going to make Flight Theory today?" Lang asked while they waited.

"Probably not," said Luke heavily. "I'm really sorry, Captain."

"It's not your fault, Luke," said Lang easily.

Luke stared at his captain. Had Lang just called him by his first name?

"Don't blame them," said Lang, switching topics quickly. "They haven't been raised to know how to deal with this type of thing," he continued, and Luke realized that he was talking about the peculiar behavior of the squad.

"Why not? It's not like I'm my father," said Luke. "They've got no reason to be afraid."

Lang glanced pointedly at the fresh lightsaber burn on Luke's left hand. "They have reason to be afraid of him, though. They are all thinking, 'if his own father will hurt him like that, what will he do to me?'"

"That's ridiculous," said Luke. "My father couldn't care less about them. And it's not like he's hurting me intentionally."

Lang shrugged. "Like I said, the problem is that they don't know how to deal with it. The aristocratic kids who are accepted into Flight School don't get put on the _Executor_. Only the truly talented ones do. That's why they don't know how to act. Most of us are from average families." Lang didn't need to say the name of the obvious exception.

They stopped talking as Dase stalked into the room. He glanced at them nastily. "Begging for a proper home, _Captain _Lang?"

Lang didn't show the slightest indication that he had heard Dase, but Luke got angry. "Shut your mouth, Dase."

Dase smirked. "We both know you're not going to do anything to me."

"Don't make me," Luke said, his dislike of the boy obvious.

Darmic stopped the brewing fight once he stepped out of the 'fresher. "All yours, Skywalker," he said, in much the same jaunty tone that he had used when he had first met Luke. His eyes clouded over for a second. "I mean…"

Luke just rolled his eyes and walked inside.

* * *

"You are not trying hard enough," said Vader as Luke failed to lift the ten deactivated druids in the center of the room into the air.

Luke wiped the perspiration on his forehead. "I_am _trying!"

"I did not say that you are not trying," Vader said. "Just not hard enough."

Luke rolled his eyes. "I can't do it."

"That's ridiculous," said Vader. "It is no different than calling the lightsaber to you, which you attempt to do every day."

A small grin crossed Luke's face. Since the first time, it had become a sort of game for him to try and get the lightsaber without Vader noticing. So far, he hadn't come close.

"Why is it that you refuse to do as I tell you?" Vader asked.

"I'm not _refusing_," said Luke. "I just _can't_.

"It is not difficult."

"Maybe not for _you_, Mr. 'I can change the course of a planet if I want!'" Luke burst out.

Vader tilted his helmet and said nothing.

"What?" Luke asked finally.

"It's nothing. Just, I have never been called that before," said Vader with a touch of amusement. "Why are you so unable to concentrate?"

Luke sighed. "It's just too much," he said. "Not the druids. Just, everything. Training as a pilot, being with you… Being on the _Executor _. Leaving Tatooine. Losing Aunt Beru."

Vader felt a twinge of guilt before he carefully pounded it down. "You were not happy to leave Tatooine? I was."

Luke expressed vague surprise that his father was from the same planet. "Well, your father wasn't Darth Vader, and he didn't murder everyone in sight and _then _take you away, did he?"

"I did not have a father."

Luke lost his momentum. "What?"

"Did you not hear me?"

Luke heard the nearly imperceptible change in his father's voice that indicated annoyance. "I heard you, it's just… I don't understand. Did he leave you, or something?"

"No. I did not have one."

"Did he die?"

Vader let out the heavy breath that was his own and that of the respirator, that Luke had come to recognize as a sign of frustration. "No. My mother just became pregnant, one day. There was no man. It just happened."

Luke stared at him. "How?"

"I don't know. Obi-Wan Kenobi used to think that I was created by the Force," said Vader. "They thought that I was the Chosen One; the child who would fulfill an ancient, and ridiculous, prophesy."

In his shock Luke vaguely remembered Obi-Wan shouting at Anakin as he lay on the banks of the lava flow, calling out, _"You were the Chosen One!_

"Wow," he said slowly.

"It's all nonsense," said Vader quickly, fiercely. "All of it."

Luke appeared entranced. "But… no _wonder _you're so powerful," he said, looking up at the 2-meter tall man. "You're half Force!"

"That is not the way that I would describe it," said Vader. "Are you ready to begin?"

"Can you tell me about your mother?"

Vader's hands clenched almost imperceptibly. "You are supposed to be training."

"Can you?"

Vader sighed mentally. Luke was relentless, and he simply refused to obey. Vader was almost at a loss—after thirteen years of having his orders carried out instantly and precisely, there was now a boy who defied him, and Vader could do nothing. "She belongs to Anakin Skywalker," he said finally, hoping that that would close the subject.

"But _you're _him!" Luke protested. "Even if you call yourself Darth Vader, that's still your name! You can't just stop being someone one day and be someone new the next."

"I assure you that it is quite possible."

Luke rolled his eyes. "Fine, can you tell me about A_nakin Skywalker_'s mother?"

The boy was unyielding, Vader realized. He closed his eyes behind his mask. "Her name was Shmi."

Luke waited for him to continue. "She was a slave on Tatooine," Vader continued. Luke's eyes widened, but he didn't say anything. "I was born, and because of my affinity for mechanics"—Vader stopped to marvel at the irony that the boy who could fix anything was reduced to being mostly machine himself—"I was very useful."

"If she was a slave, does that mean you were, too?" Luke asked curiously.

"Yes."

Luke thought about this a moment. No wonder Vader campaigned so hard against the worlds that still had slavery. Still, this revelation was surprising. His own _father_, _Darth Vader_, had been a slave? It seemed impossible.

"I was taken away from Tatooine," Vader said. "And as an adolescent was plagued by dreams of her death. After some difficult _convincing _the dream's legitimacy to my superiors, I was finally allowed to travel back to Tatooine. When I arrived, I learned that Tusken Raiders had captured her. I went after them and found her, dead. I slaughtered the camp."

Vader's voice was emotionless, but Luke shivered nonetheless. "Can you tell me about my mother?"

Vader's hand jerked once. "No," he said flatly. "You're dismissed."

"But"—

"YOU ARE DISMISSED!" Vader roared suddenly.

Luke stared at him, frightened. "I"—He stopped himself and turned, running out of the room, knowing that to argue—or, indeed, say anything else—to Vader when he was this wrathful was pointless. He returned to his room, pondering over what he had learned.

Once Luke left, Vader sighed mentally. Why had he told the boy about his mother? He should have known that it would only lead to questions about Padmé, the answers of which he had no desire to remember. He turned and saw the droids out of the corner of his mask. Gritting his teeth, he drew his lightsaber and turned them all on using the Force. He propelled himself into their midst and began slicing them to pieces, attempting to vent some of his anger. She was dead. _Dead_.

* * *

The next day it was as if they had not spoken at all, but Luke's performance was the same. "What is the problem?" Vader asked finally. "Not more pointless questions, I hope?"

"Well, no, but now that you mention it"—

"What is it, then?"

Luke furrowed his eyebrows. "My hand hurts."

"Why should that affect your command of the Force?"

"Because it _hurts_!" To Vader's surprise, his son held up his right hand. The mechanical one. "I don't know why. Nothing happened to it."

For what seemed the thousandth time lately, Vader felt guilty. Why had he cut off the boy's hand? Why could he not have realized the truth sooner? If only he had not killed Beru so suddenly—he had cut off her words before she could finish the sentence "He's your son!" And Luke had to pay the price for his lack of control of his anger. Had it been such a big deal that she had called him by his former name? The Jedi that he had killed during the Purge had certainly called him worse things! "A nerve ending is probably connected poorly to a wire," he said finally, knowing all too well the experience. "Go to the medical bay and have it fixed. It is not a serious problem."

"Right now?"

"If it is that urgent."

Luke left the training room as quickly as possible and Vader clasped his hands behind his back. The boy should not have to deal with _that _particular problem. He was only thirteen, Vader thought. And it was _his _fault. Through his actions, he had condemned his son to a lifetime of regret and anger and bitterness.

Vader suddenly realized his foolishness. Those emotions were _necessary . _It was a good thing that he had lost his hand! They would provide the fuel that the ever-hungry fire of the Dark Side needed. But nonetheless, he sighed again.

When Luke returned to his barracks, the others were there as well and were studying some sort of flight manual. They all looked up when he arrived except for Dase, who stubbornly stared at his datapad.

The others quickly averted their eyes and Luke let a loud sigh. "What is it?"

"Nothing!" said Jisk quickly.

"Don't worry about it," Darmic added.

"No big deal," Jons added nervously.

They had been acting strange, Luke noted, but not _this _strange. He narrowed his eyes. He didn't even need to use the Force to know that they were lying. "Tell me," he said finally. "What is the problem?"

"Why does he wear that suit?" Darmic burst out suddenly, and clapped his hands over his mouth, his eyes widening.

Luke stared at Darmic surprised. He said nothing.

But Darmic's question unleashed a floodgate of successors. "Is it because he breathes different air? Why don't you have to wear a breath mask then?"

"Why does he have that laser sword thing instead of a blaster?"

"How come he kills so many people for no reason?"

"Why is he going to be the next emperor?"

"Why is he in charge of the fleet even though he's not in the military?"

"How come he wears the suit?" someone repeated. Luke shook his head slightly, trying to clear his thoughts.

"It's none of your business," he said finally.

The other boys groaned.

"And I don't even know the answer to half those questions, anyway," he told them truthfully. "He's not exactly forthcoming."

"But if he's your _father_, shouldn't you be able to ask him whatever you want?" Jisk reasoned.

Luke sighed, wishing more than ever that Vader had not threatened Dase and told him the truth, thereby letting out the secret. He had been right—there was a total loss of anonymity.

"If Lord Vader was your father, would _you _ask him those questions?"

The boys turned to see Lang, and Luke breathed a sigh of relief. That was the second time that the captain had come to his rescue when he had been faced with difficult questions. "Back to work, Group 1," Lang barked, turning his attention away from the situation and returning to his harsh persona. "Skywalker, get to work. You've got a lot to make up."

* * *

Look for more soon! 


	5. Of Life And Death

Another Route

Part Five

Author's Note: Thanks for all of the reviews (and the hits! You people, review me, dmn it: ) )

I'll try and post up to 16 tomorrow.

----

Several weeks later, Vader received the notice that he had been dreading. Palpatine had requested he speak to him. He was tempted to throttle the aide that had given the message to him, but thought better of it. He demanded competency and efficiency, after all, and the boy had fulfilled both those requirements. Just because he hadn't wanted the message didn't mean it was the boy's fault.

Vader knew that his Master would ask him about his son, and if Vader told him the truth, that Luke had the potential to become as powerful as himself, the Emperor would want to teach Luke himself to make sure that Vader didn't train the boy to destroy Palpatine.

Silently, Vader cursed the wretched Sith custom that made Palpatine so paranoid. When he reached his quarters, he set up the projector and lowered himself to his knee, pressing the 'send' button with the Force.

Soon the bluish holo of the Emperor was projected onto the desk. "Rise, Lord Vader," said the Emperor, and Vader noticed a new, jarring note in the Sith Lord's croak of a voice. Was his extensive use of the Dark Side truly destroying his body, as Vader thought? He stood. "Master, what is it that you require?"

"I should like to hear your reports of the goings-on, Lord Vader," said Palpatine, his face mostly hidden from behind his dark cowl.

"We received rumors of a small uprising in Dantooine, and went there immediately. At the presence of the _Executor_, however, those who had hidden the rebels soon revealed them and the rebels were interrogated for information and killed."

"And did you glean any new information, my apprentice?"

Vader got the sick feeling that he was being patronized. "No, my lord. The rebels were a separate entity of the one that we fear has been growing."

"And is there anything else to report?"

"No, Master," Vader said immediately.

"No? Surely you must have some news of young Skywalker's progress. How does his training go?"

Vader thought quickly. "He has potential to become useful, Master. Thus far he seems to struggle with concentration. I have no doubt that he will become a loyal servant to you and the Empire."

"You also struggled with concentration as a youth, did you not?"

"I struggled with patience, Master," said Vader, knowing that Palpatine would attempt to twist his words into an admittance of Luke's power.

"Ah, of course. You will inform me, of course, of the boy's progress," said his Master.

"Of course, Master."

"I know you will, my apprentice," said the Emperor, his voice descending into a deeper growl. "I wish you to return to Coruscant. I should like to meet this son of Skywalker."

Vader nearly choked behind his mask. Palpatine wanted to _meet _Luke? Had the Sith guessed that he had not been completely truthful about the boy's ability? "Of course, Master," he said, knowing that he had no choice.

"Very well. I shall expect you," said Palpatine, turning off the holo without another word.

Vader let out a particularly loud breath. What could he do? Bringing Luke to his Master would probably mean instant death for the boy, and severe punishment for himself—if Palpatine discovered that he had lied, he would become even _more _paranoid.

All he could hope was that a major crisis would arise and he would be vital to its solution. In the meantime, he would have to delay the order to move to Coruscant as much as he could without arousing more suspicion. For now, he would have to try and teach Luke how to shield his mind. But the boy was so inexperienced… Vader shrugged off that thought. He must be taught. If it proved necessary, Vader would guard the boy's mind himself.

"Can we practice fencing now?" Luke moaned as his father successfully made his way around the pathetic shields that he was trying to maintain.

"No." Vader's voice was particularly firm. "It is of the utmost importance that you learn this."

"But why? I don't see how this is going to help me," said Luke sullenly. He felt the sudden wave of desperation from his father.

"You must learn it," he said roughly.

"Why?" Luke was surprised to hear a garbled mixture of swearwords in various languages from his normally impassive, collected father.

"Soon we will be heading towards Coruscant," said Vader finally, deciding that perhaps the truth would help motivate his son. "The Emperor wishes to see you."

"Me? Why?"

"He fears that if you are as strong as I am, combined we could overthrow him," said Vader, finding himself suddenly unwilling to tell his son the finer points of Sith customs. "I have told him that you are not a threat."

"If I'm not a threat then why"—

"You are, Luke," said Vader. "You have the potential to become as powerful as I am. He fears this. He will kill you if he thinks you are a threat to him."

Luke paled. "But if I haven't done anything to him…"

"Have you learned nothing, my naïve son?" Vader interrupted him wearily. "It does not matter that you have done nothing thus far. He will still perceive you as a future danger, and will kill you for it."

Luke was clearly subdued. "So I'm learning this so he thinks I'm not as powerful as I really am?"

"Yes." Vader could tell that he had frightened Luke. "You must learn this, Luke. It is your only chance."

"If he's your Master…" Luke began. "Aren't you supposed to obey him?"

"Of course."

"If he told you to kill me, would you?"

Vader froze.

_"And you the one to kill him."_

What would he do if Palpatine ordered him to do so? He had to obey his Master, yes, but to kill his own son? It was unthinkable. Luke was innocent—he had done nothing! He was no Jedi, he was no criminal! He certainly was not a member of his crew that had performed a duty poorly, and thus could not to be lumped into that group. What justification would there be for his death, other than the Emperor's fear of displacement? But still, if he was ordered to do so… He was not strong enough to defeat Palpatine, whereas Palpatine would not hesitate to kill him.

But would he? Vader was the Emporer's most trusted agent—at least, he had been. There was no one else that could lead the Imperial Fleet so effectively, that much he was sure of. To kill him would be a great loss. So what would he do? Palpatine would not kill him, because then he would be left with Luke as a potential apprentice, and if Luke knew that his father had died by Palpatine's hand, he would not be eager to join the Sith Lord. Did that make Vader safe, though?

And there was always the option that Palpatine would kill Luke himself, knowing that Vader could do nothing short of sacrificing himself, and even that was not sure to be successful, to stop him. Would he sacrifice himself for his son?

Of course not, the Dark Side chimed in eagerly. Vader's duty was to his Master, not to the son that had been his when he was still Anakin Skywalker, Jedi Knight. Luke was merely a tool, now—Vader could not allow himself to form an emotional bond. He was a Lord of the Sith; he had no cause for a relationship with a _son_, of all things. That was ridiculous. If Luke performed, he would live, and if he did not, it was up to the Emperor.

Vader suddenly realized that he had been pondering the question for some time, and that Luke was staring at him, face pale. Before he could do anything, the boy turned and ran out of the room, no doubt under the impression that his father would not hesitate to murder him.

A wave of inexplicable sadness washed over Vader. No, he could not kill Luke, he admitted. No matter what the boy was, he was still Padmé's son, and to her he still had a duty.

"My lord!" An officer gasped, running up to Vader as he stood on the bridge of the _Executor. _

Vader's first thought was to strangle the man for interrupting him, before he realized that no crewman on his ship would dare to do so unless he had a legitimate reason.

"My lord, we've just received an urgent message from the Star Destroyer _Defender_!" The man paused to catch his breath. "There's been a revolt on Kessel! The criminals overtook the guns and port of the mines, sir, and have used what pilots they have to fight against the _Defender_!"

"Set course immediately for Kessel," said Vader instantly. "Prepare the ship for hyperspace. Inform all pilots of the coming duty. I want to be there as soon as possible."

"Yes, my lord!" said the man, saluting and retreating off the bridge.

It was only after a few moments of strategic planning on the means of taking Kessel back under control when Vader realized that his hope for a dire crisis had come to fruition. What ship better than the Imperial Navy's flagship to put down a revolt? The Emperor would understand—he would even approve. Vader smiled slightly under his mask. Luke was safe, for now.

He whipped around and strode off of the bridge. Now to business. The criminals would certainly realize their mistake when they saw Darth Vader's TIE approaching.

The hallways had become crowded as the ship's crew prepared for battle. Vader did not even realize where his feet took him until he saw himself in front of his son's barracks. Surprised at himself, Vader opened the door using the Force and was amused when he saw nine boys in the room turn to him and all go sick with fear. One, in particular—Vader recognized the General's son, and he looked far more frightened than the rest. "My lord…" One began, stepping forward. He had the Captain's bars on his shoulders. "Your son…" He began, but stopped himself. He tried again. "Trainee Skywalker is in the 'fresher at the moment, sir."

"I am aware, Trainee Captain," said Vader. "But I do wonder just how this group came to learn of my relation to Trainee Skywalker." Vader turned slowly towards the General's son. "I know that Luke certainly did not mention it." He disliked the boy's father immensely, and knew when he had told the boy that he was Luke's father that he would tell the others. This was a perfect excuse for some tormenting.

He let his mechanical breathing fill the silenced space for a moment, knowing it cultivated the fear, no matter how much he hated it. The thoughts of the boys were practically deafening. He would wait just a few more seconds—

"Father?"

Luke had reentered the room and he looked far paler than normal. Vader wondered idly if he was sick. "Come with me."

"Couldn't you have just told me?" Luke asked, still surprised at seeing Vader standing in the barracks.

"I believe you know the reason that I did not, my son," said Vader. "Come." He turned to the side so that Luke walked in front of him. Before following, Vader turned to one of the boys. "Trainee Darmic, I would advise you to dispose of the pornography under your mattress. It does not reflect well on Imperial soldiers and I do not allow it on any of my ships, and certainly not my flagship."

The teenager's face went violently red as Vader left the room. Once the door had shut, they all let out a collective breath before gathering the courage to laugh.

"Why did you come? Did your Master tell you to kill me, and you decided to do it to my face instead of Force-choking me?" Luke asked bitterly.

"I would never kill you," said Vader, ignoring the disrespect for the meantime as they walked.

"Sure," said Luke. "Because killing people really preys on _your _conscience."

The comment stung for a moment before Vader suppressed it. "I do not kill for pleasure, whatever you may think."

"No, you just prey on the helpless," Luke spat. "No, wait, I'm wrong! Aunt Beru was a real threat! I totally understand why she had to die! Imagine calling someone by his _real name_! The treason!"

"I will not tolerate such an attitude," said Vader coldly as they walked down the hallway. "And I was under the impression that we had discussed this matter thoroughly."

"You don't get it, do you?" Luke suddenly shouted, planting his feet. "How can you be so heartless? You _killed _someone! Just because she did something you didn't like! She didn't do anything to you! Who gave you the right to just decide who gets to live or not? Why should the people who bug you have to die?"

Vader was suddenly grateful that their corridor was empty before his anger billowed up. "I will not be spoken to in that manner, _my son_."

"I don't care!" Luke shouted back. "It's not like you can do much else, is it? What are you going to do, threaten to hurt me? You already cut off my hand!" 

Vader said nothing as Luke stood in the hallway, breathing hard. "Are you finished?" The Sith asked, grateful that the mask belied none of his emotions. Luke was right, even though he didn't want to admit it. The boy had opened a floodgate of repressed guilt that had lain dormant in Vader. Everything was his fault—he hadn't been able to save his mother, or Padmé, hadn't been able save himself, even. And now, he had nearly killed his own son, and would have, if not for Owen Lars' words. Why? He had tried to do everything right, all those years, and yet nothing had ever worked. Recognizing the pointless train of thought, Vader cleared his emotions and refocused upon his son. "Luke," he began. "I came to tell you that we are going to battle. I will be flying."

Luke's anger and pain dissipated for the moment. "Really?" .

Suddenly, Vader was struck with an idea that might help to mend the relations between him and his son. "Would you like to watch?" he asked. "You would probably have a good vantage point from the bridge."

"You're not joking?"

"Do I ever?"

Luke thought a moment. "No." He grinned. "That'd be awesome!" His expression clouded over for a second as Vader began to walk back down the hall. "Hold on! I'm not done!"

Vader turned. "We will be entering hyperspace shortly," he said. "You can take out your anger on me with a lightsaber."

"You promise not to move?" Luke asked, grinning, unable to relinquish his excitement for the anger of just a few minutes past.

"I promise to use one hand," Vader said. "I have already been chopped to pieces once without needing to revisit the experience."

Luke stared at his father for a moment before he recognized Vader's dry sense of humor. He grinned. "Fine. One hand."

Luke very quickly realized that he had a lot more to learn than he thought. He had thought that they normally engaged in competitive duels, Vader showed Luke that he only knew the basics of fencing with the Force and easily beat him several times with just one hand. He had knocked Luke's lightsaber from his hand four times and had barely allowed him to get it back with the Force before he had to concede defeat with his father's lightsaber a few inches from his neck.

Vader moved with speed, but he was not nearly as nimble as he had probably been before Mustafar, Luke decided. Still, Luke didn't have time to wonder how a 2-meter tall man in a life-support suit could manage to move as quickly as he did, as his father's blood red blade whipped past him. Finally, they stopped and Vader said, "I believe that I have killed you five times, Luke." He inwardly cringed as he remembered the touchy subject.

Luke didn't seem to notice. "How come you're so much better?" he asked frowning. He crossed his arms after shoving the lightsaber inside the sash of his Pilot Trainee's uniform.

"Perhaps because I have been doing this for well over twenty years," came Vader's suggestion as he deactivated his own weapon and hooked it to his waist.

"But shouldn't my size give me an advantage?" Luke questioned. "I mean, shouldn't I be more agile?"

"You are," Vader conceded. "You are far more agile than I can be." Obi-Wan's face loomed in his mind and he forced it out of his thoughts. "But I use the Force to make me move quickly. You are still focused upon your physical self."

Luke pondered this for a few seconds. "So that means that I can use the Force to make me stronger, too?"

"Yes."

"Taller?"

The boy's playful question came close to making Vader laugh behind his mask. "I have not ever heard of the Force being used in that way, but there is always a first time," he said.

Luke grinned, but after a moment his expression dimmed. "Why do you serve the Emperor?"

Vader realized that his distraction of the boy was temporary. He sighed mentally. The question was innocent enough, but still, the answer was so complicated… "He is my master."

"Who says?"

"I do not have time for this."

Luke's eyes hardened. "You never do when you don't want to answer a question. You can't just send me off whenever you don't want to deal with me. Like you did when I asked about my mother."

A tide of anger and pain swelled up past the defenses, and through the haze Vader knew that Luke was right. "It is not a subject of which I do not enjoy speaking," he said finally. He had known that the boy would ask about his mother—could he tell him that it was Vader's own actions that killed her? That she died as he dueled his former master and was left burning alive on the slopes of a lava flow? Stabbing pain, a remnant of that day, shot up Vader's body.

"But can't you just tell me, so I know? I mean, if I can handle you as my father…" Luke trailed off, and Vader again suppressed the instinct to laugh. He sighed mentally. The boy had a right to know… And he had taken enough from him without withholding his mother as well.

"Walk with me," he said impulsively. "We will walk to the bridge."

Luke nodded, following his father's impossibly long strides out of the room and down the corridor. Vader slowed his steps. He remained silent for many minutes, trying to collect his thoughts. What would he tell him, and what would he leave out? Where would he begin? The sound of her voice, her eyes, the smell of her hair?

He clenched his fists. Obi-Wan had tricked him, he had—he stopped himself. This was no time for anger. He reached out for the Force to calm himself. Finally, he began. "Her name was Padmé," he said haltingly. He could feel the boy's attention swell, but the boy didn't speak. "She was from Naboo." He stopped again. "She was the queen."

He registered Luke's surprise and tried to continue. "I first met her on Tatooine," he said. "I was nine years old and she fourteen. I loved her immediately."

Luke waited for him to go on.

"For ten years I traveled the Galaxy with my Master," said Vader, the words coming more easily. "At the onset of the Clone Wars, we married in secret. I was not able to be with her on Coruscant very often, for by then she was Naboo's senator and I was bound to my duty." He stopped.

Luke sensed that his father would not go on. His heart ached to know more, but he calmed himself. "Thank you," he said, hoping that the expression of gratitude would be accepted, even though none of the others ever were.

There was a small incontinuity in the regular breaths of the respirator. "You are welcome."

They went the rest of the way in silence. Vader walked with Luke to his spot on the bridge, and Luke looked out at the streaks that were the stars in hyperspace.

"My lord!" A colonel walked up to them. "We will be arriving at Kessel within the hour, my lord."

"Good," said Vader, his nostalgia clearing the face of work to be done. The colonel hurried away. "Luke, I am going to prepare my fighter," he said. "Stay here. If anyone bothers you…" Vader waved a hand towards Luke's waist, and the boy looked down and grinned when he saw the lightsaber still at his waist. "You may keep that from now on, until you are ready to construct your own." With that, he swept off the bridge, leaving Luke leaning against the railing.

They arrived at Kessel forty minutes later and Luke watched as a motley crew of low-powered fighters attacked a smaller star destroyer. The star destroyer already was burning and had several damages inflicted from the laser guns of the fighters. Luke had heard enough about Kessel to know that it was a prison planet, that the most hardened and irredeemable criminals were sent there to mine.

He watched for a few minutes until a swarm of TIE fighters from the _Executor _descended into the battle. With a jolt, he felt his father's presence in the strange TIE with flaps bent inwards that was leading the attack. He opened himself to his father, and felt the exhilaration of the Sith as he manipulated the controls of the ship effortlessly.

It was breathtaking to watch. His father was invincible, it seemed—he swerved and rolled and feinted with far beyond textbook accuracy. His two wingmen did their jobs perfectly, though he seemed as though there was no need for them. A sudden feeling of cold washed over Luke and he realized that his father was using the Force to inflict fear upon the enemies.

It worked. The fighters, in the face of the four squads of TIE fighters and Darth Vader attempted to turn back to Kessel, but to no avail—the ships followed them and annihilated the rest.

Luke was energized by the performance. He reached out for his father instinctively. _May I go down there?_

The response was delayed. _Why?_

_Because… _Luke struggled to think of a reason, other than the fact that he just wanted to see it. _I can help you!_

_Do you think I need help? The remainder of this pathetic revolt is paralyzed in fear._

_But I want to…_

Luke clearly heard the mind-sigh of his father and grinned. _Very well_, said Vader. _Talk to one of the officers. Use the Force if they are unwilling._

With that, the link was cut, and Luke practically ran over to the general that had been watching the fight. "Get me a shuttle down to Kessel," he told the man in a self-important way.

The general looked down at Luke, and with a sick feeling, the boy recognized the black hair and pale skin. "And you are…?"

The lie was palpable. He knew very _well _who Luke was, and yet he was pretending that he didn't. Luke's anger billowed up. "Did you not hear me, General Dase?" He said in a low, dangerous voice. Of course, if the father was anything like the son, he knew what the response would be. Luke's mind remembered the lightsaber that hung at his belt. Perhaps he would get a chance to use it…

"I apologize. I do not take orders from Pilot Trainees," the general sniffed. "Even ones with a father such as yours."

Like his son, the general thought he was untouchable. Luke grit his teeth and rested his hand on his lightsaber, wishing he were taller. Perhaps he would have more of his father's influence if he was two meters tall. "General, you do not wish to be at the other end of my father's anger when he realizes the manner in which you have treated me."

"What is he going to do, boy?" The general walked more closely to him. "Is he going to cut off my hand?"

Nauseated, Luke realized that the man knew what had happened to him that night. He kept his composure. "Unlikely," he said finally. "He is more likely to choke you."

"I have received no orders to allow an eleven-year-old boy down to the surface of Kessel," said the man dismissively.

Before he realized what he was doing, Luke drew his lightsaber and held it in front of him. "Get me a shuttle," he said angrily, his annoyance to begin with and his anger at being insulted giving him what he needed to produce the same fear as his father.

He seemed to have made an impression. "If you insist on force," said Dase. He turned to one of the captains, who seemed frozen. Luke fought the urge to smile as he heard their thoughts.

_Great, there are two of them now?_

"Captain, prepare a shuttle for Lord Vader's son," he said distastefully. "He desires to go to the surface."

One of them nodded fearfully and rushed to depart. Luke deactivated his lightsaber. "Thank you, General Dase," he said, feeling strangely different from his normal self.

He waited for a transport to be ready, feeling powerful as he rested his hand on the hilt of his lightsaber. He grinned. Dase and his son might have big words, but they couldn't back them up. They would pay whenever they tried to cross him.

He was still thinking when suddenly Jisk ran up to him breathless. "Skywalker, you've got to help!" he yelled, not bothering with the normal fear and caution that the other trainees normally used around Luke.

Luke's thoughts of power and mastery evaportated. "Jisk, what's wrong?" Worry overtook him and erased the anger.

"It's Jons, Skywalker!" Jisk said, gasping for air. "His father is a guard down there and he is trying to steal a TIE!"

Luke barely had time to wonder why Jisk had gone to him when he realized why; if Luke ordered Jons to stop, there was a greater chance of his obedience, considering who it came from. Luke bowed his head for a second. "Where is he?"

"This way, come with me!" Jisk said, grabbing Luke's arm.

They ran to the main hangar, where Lang and Darmic were attempting to talk sense into Jons as he tried to get away from them to jump into the TIE fighter. "You don't get it!" Jons screamed. "My dad could be dying!"

"Listen, Jons, you're a half-trained fighter pilot," Lang said. "You'll get killed. The land-based guns down there are powerful, I know it for a fact."

"I have to do something!" Tears streamed down Jons' face. "He sent me here so that I could do some good, Hannon!"

No one had ever called Lang by his first name and he didn't seem to notice. "It's a suicide mission. The ship has already deployed TIEs, Jons. I'm sure your father is fine."

"I don't care! I've got to help him!" Jons screamed, abandoning all pretenses for rank and respect. His eyes were alight with a desperation that Luke had never seen.

"Then let's go," said Luke, not knowing what possessed him. His heart reached out for him. "I've got a shuttle ready," he continued. "We'll find him."

Lang turned to him, his eyes wide. "Skywalker, you're supposed to stop him, not encourage him!"

But Luke had already made up his mind. HE stalked to the shuttle that was ready for take-off, hoping that it was the one he had requested. "Come on," he told Jons, who was in disbelief. "You coming?"

"But if you get hurt…" Darmic said, his face pale.

Luke closed his eyes. Of course. If he was injured in any way, his father would retaliate and they all knew it. "I won't be," he said with finality. "Let's go. I'm pretty sure I can pilot this thing."

He let his hands run over the lightsaber as an act of reassurance. "We'll find him, Jons," he said comfortingly. Jons nodded. "Thanks, Skywalker," he whispered.

Lang was staring him in unhidden confusion. Finally, he said, "I'm coming with you."

"What?" Luke whipped around.

"You need a commanding officer," said Lang with the closest thing to a grin on his face that Luke had ever seen. "Let's go. Darmic, Jisk, cover us."

"No way," said Darmic immediately. "We're coming."

The entire group stared at Luke as if they waited for his approval. Luke sighed. "Let's go, then."

Piloting the shuttle proved more difficult than Luke had imagined. He used the Force for the finer points, but still the controls were different than that of the TIE simulators. The other teenagers had found a cache of charged blasters and two-way commlinks, and Lang had distributed them. Because the base was already prepared for Luke's going down to Kessel, they got through without a hitch.

"Don't worry, Jisk," said Luke, not even realizing the boy had not spoken a word. He jumped. "I have a lightsaber. I've been trained by Darth Vader. We'll be fine," he said.

Jisk stared at him. "Did you just…"

"He read your mind," said Lang. "Didn't you?"

Luke nodded. "I didn't mean to, though. It's just… Your thoughts were pretty loud."

There was complete silence in the cockpit for the next five minutes. "Tell me about your father, Jons," said Luke, wondering if he would be able to feel him.

Jons swallowed. "He's a guard on Kessel. My mother got murdered and so he thought the best way to avenge her was to try and make sure that all murderers were kept from the rest of the Galaxy."

"Keep talking," said Luke as they descended into the atmosphere. For the first time, he allowed himself to realize the magnitude of what he was attempting—Five teenaged boys were going to try and save one guard from a horde of bloodthirsty murderes. He shook his head to clear it.

"Is he Force-sensitive?" He asked, hoping that maybe that would be a way he could identify Jons' father and they could return to the _Executor_ without Vader having realized where he'd gone.

"Force what?"

Luke sighed. "Never mind."

The land-based guns were shooting unsuccessfully into the sky, and Luke avoided them, going around the base to the mines and caves. A gun turned on them and Luke swerved away, wishing that the shuttle was more maneuverable than it was.

The other boys hissed in their breaths as a laser blast just barely missed them. Luke gunned the thrusters and they sped up. "This isn't meant to be piloted by one man," he said suddenly. "I need someone to orchestrate the landing."

"I'll do it," Lang said immediately, unbuckling himself and sliding into the copilot's chair. Luke didn't have time to wonder just how Lang knew what to do when the ground approached rapidly.

"Hold it off," said Lang calmly, pressing switches. "I need to get the landing gear out."

Luke nodded, pulling up the craft in enough time to avoid another laser blast.

"We're good," said Lang, breathing a sigh of relief. Luke touched down and the craft trembled as it hit the rocky ground.

The boys let out identical breaths. "Have any of you been here before?" Luke asked desperately. This had been a stupider move than he had realized.

"No," said Jons.

"We have to get into the base," said Luke, deciding that perhaps his lightsaber would be good enough. "Come on." He pressed the codes to lower the ramp and led the way down to the rusty, crumbling ground. Jons tore out of his seat and Lang followed, raising his blaster in preparation.

"Let's go," Lang said tersely, nodding his head back towards Jisk and Darmic. "We can't leave you here."

"You're safer with me than you are in an unmanned, unarmed shuttle," Luke said exasperated. "We need the firepower."

Jisk and Darmic descended after them and Luke reached with a tendril of the Force to close the ramp. He closed his eyes briefly and opened them again. "I can hide our presence a little bit," he said. "No one talk."

Lang moved up with him, keeping a hand on Jons, who held his blaster with a fierce look on his face that indicated he would kill anyone who stood in his path.

Luke crouched behind a rock. "Why aren't there more exposed men?" he wondered aloud. He didn't have time to wonder as sudden laser fire hit the rocks behind with they hid.

"The ship dropped off a load of troops," said a harsh, gravely voice. "We can take 'em."

Darmic paled and he and Jisk turned to Luke, whose eyes had hardened.

"I dunno, Maz, you know what they're sayin'?" came a second voice, approaching them. "They're sayin' that the star destroyer up there is Vader's ship. They're sayin' that he's here."

"No he ain't," came Maz's voice, angry. "Shaddup! You think we did alla this jus' to be scared off by the Emperor's lapdog?"

Luke heard this and clenched his hand around his lightsaber. _No one _talked that way about his father. He heard a buzzing in his ears and stood up, feeling the surprise of the two, heavily scarred men who were wielding blasters.

"Skywlker, what are you doing?" Jisk hissed.

"Who're you?" the larger man asked, his beady eyes narrowing.

"He's wearin' an Imp uniform, Maz," said the second man.

"He's jus' a lil' kid," Maz grinned. "What are you gonna do, kiddie?"

Luke gritted his teeth. "I order you to surrender," he spat, and the aura of power surrounding was tangible even to the others.

"WHERE IS MY FATHER?" Jons suddenly screamed, running out towards the men, blaster aimed.

The two criminals barely had time to react. One raised his blaster and shot, but in an instant the laser was deflected by the bright blue lightsaber that had appeared in Luke's hands. Both men paled, but Maz smirked. "You can't beat us, even with that laser sword, kid. It's two on one."

"Try me," Luke hissed, the thrum of the blade causing the boys' hair to stand up. Luke adjusted his stance.

Maz shot off his blaster twice more, and each time it was deflected by Luke's lightsaber. "Where are you keeping the guards?" Luke asked in a measured voice, with just enough of a Force suggestion that Maz would be likely to reply.

Maz's eyes glazed over. "Below the base."

Luke sighed and Maz's eyes cleared. "I dunno what you think you are, kid, but lemme tell ya"—

Luke raised a hand and both men were swept onto the ground. He concentrated for a second, and several large rocks lifted into the air and hovered over the two men before crashing down on them, effectively pinning them to the ground. Maz cried out. "Damn you!"

Luke ignored them and used the Force to rip their weapons from their hands. He handed them to Lang and Darmic, who stared at him, almost afraid. "Let's go," Luke said tersely, stalking towards the base.

The others nodded and followed them as he traversed the rocks. Lang was particularly subdued. Could Luke become a Jedi, despite Vader? He cleared his mind. Now was not the time to wonder. They had to save Jons' father, and he would follow Luke to do so. He shut his eyes briefly and opened them. Could he?


	6. Disobedience

Part 6

------

Luke looked up to see his father flanked by two squadrons of  
stormtroopers. His hands were clasped behind his back and his legs  
planted in a position that Luke knew indicated anger. He  
winced. "Father, I…"

"You disobeyed a direct command," Vader rumbled  
ominously. "I do not tolerate such wanton defiance."

"I didn't mean to, it's just…" Luke trailed off  
miserably. "I'm sorry, I was just trying…"

"You have no excuse for your actions," Vader said with dark  
finality. "Captain BT-31-01, remove these children and return them  
to their barracks to await proper punishment from their supervising  
officers."

"Yes, my lord." The leading stormtrooper marched past Vader  
and Luke to the other cadets, all of whom were terrified out of  
their minds.

"Wait, sir, Lord Vader!" Jons, in an astounding display of  
bravery, rushed past the others and past Luke. "It's not his fault,  
sir. If it hadn't been for me, he wouldn't have come, it's just, my  
father is a guard here, and I was worried about him." He stopped and  
stared up at the immense figure, realization of his actions dawning  
on him.

"What are you doing, you idiot?" Luke hissed. "Get back!"  
"I…" Jons whispered, staring up at the fearsome man before  
him. He stumbled backwards.

Vader ignored Jons' words. "You thought that the appropriate  
course of action was to steal Imperial TIE fighters and risk all of  
your lives?" he asked, the anger in his voice evident.

Luke swallowed. "Father…

"  
"Come with me." Vader turned around and strode past the  
stormtroopers, his cloak billowing out behind him. Luke glanced one  
last time at the trainees and jogged to catch up to his father.  
They walked towards the base in complete silence save  
Vader's breathing. "Why did you attempt to save the boy's father?"

"Attempt to save?" Luke asked, hoping his father's choice of  
words was accidental.

"All guards were executed."

"What? You...?"

"Of course not," said Vader impatiently. "Upon the  
prisoners' takeover of the base, they were all shot. Once I entered,  
they surrendered immediately. I was too late to save the guards."

Luke hung his head. "I just… I grew up thinking my father  
was dead," he said quietly. "I didn't want him to have to do that…"

Vader was strangely touched before he beat the sentiment  
down. "And you thought me incapable of doing the job as well as you?"

"No… I didn't think," Luke mumbled.

"Of course not. You could have been killed. You put five  
other of your supposed comrades in mortal peril and destroyed two of  
my TIE fighters."

"We shot down three ships…" Luke offered. "I did one by  
myself and helped with another one."

"That is inconsequential."

Luke sighed. "I'm sorry."

"Apologies do not erase the past," Vader said firmly. "You  
are to be removed from the pilot training program."

"What? But"—

"You have a more fitting punishment?" Vader asked, stopping  
and turning towards his son.

"Father… If you had an officer or something that did what I  
did, you wouldn't remove him from the military!" Luke knew he was  
grasping at straws.  
"No. He would be dead," Vader said with a touch of  
amusement.  
Luke grimaced. "Point taken. It's just… I love flying. And  
you do too. I saw you."  
"You may continue to fly, as long as you are under my  
supervision," Vader conceded. "You proved yourself to be far beyond  
the trainees. There is no need to continue to be a part of that  
organization."  
"But I like them," Luke protested as they resumed walking.  
"They are inferior to you."  
"But they're my friends," said Luke, furrowing his  
brow. "Can't I have friends?"  
Vader stared at him for a moment, unmoving. "You will be  
given a room near my own."  
"But"—  
"This is final," said Vader. He turned to a uniformed man  
who came out to greet them from inside the base. "Captain Piett,  
escort my son back to the Executor."  
Piett gave a small bow. "Of course, my lord," he  
said. "Come, sir."  
"Wait," said Vader suddenly. He held out his hand. "Give me  
your lightsaber."  
"What?" Luke asked, his mouth dropping open.  
"You have obviously proven that you are not up to the  
responsibility," said Vader. It flew from his waist to his  
outstretched hand. "You will receive it again when it is necessary  
for you to have one."  
"Fine," Luke muttered. "But if I get attacked, how am I  
supposed to defend myself?"  
"I'm sure you will find a way. Captain, you may take him,"  
said Vader, stepping back as Piett walked forward.  
Morosely, Luke followed the captain to a shuttle that held  
other officers. "I don't suppose you were the one to shoot down that  
Berk fighter, were you?" Piett asked with an easy smile as they  
boarded the shuttle.  
Luke forgot his mood for a second and grinned. "Yep. How'd  
you know?"  
"None of the officers listening to the transmissions had  
heard of Team Liberation,'" said Piett wryly. "And when we tuned in  
to the rest of your private comm-links, we deduced the truth."  
"And told my father," Luke said darkly.  
"Actually, no," said Piett. "He—ah—knew already, when we  
sent him the message."  
"Oh," said Luke, turning to the viewport. "How long have you  
known my father?"  
"I…" Piett couldn't seem to find the words. The atmosphere  
had turned tense at the mention of Vader. "None of us really know  
him," he said finally.  
Luke sighed. "That's what I figured."

When he returned to the ship, Piett gave him to an ensign  
who followed him to the Pilot Trainee's barracks with an air of  
apprehension. Smiling to himself, Luke used the Force to open the  
door, just to upset the man more. The ensign jumped, startled, and  
Luke turned to him. "You can go."  
"My orders are to escort you to your new quarters—ah—sir."  
Luke rolled his eyes. "Fine, then. Wait here." He walked  
inside to see Vaskall, Lang, Jisk, and Darmic on their beds, all  
looking nervous. They sat up upon Luke's arrival.  
"Skywalker!" Jisk exclaimed. He grinned. "You owe me twenty  
credits, he said to Darmic out of the side of his mouth."  
"Over?" Luke questioned as he made his way to the drawer  
underneath his bunk where he kept his personal things.  
"Darmic here bet that you'd be in the Medbay for at least a  
week. I said that you'd be in there for two days," said Jisk.  
"Then you both lose," said Luke, stuffing his things into a  
bag. "He didn't hurt me. He is my father, you know. It's not like  
he's abusive or anything."  
"What are you doing?"  
"Did you get in trouble?"  
"What happened?"  
Luke sighed. "My father isn't letting me be a pilot anymore."  
Darmic hissed in sympathy. "Sorry."  
Luke glanced around the room. "Where's Jons?"  
"He went home," said Vaskall sadly. "As soon as we got here.  
Apparently all of the guards were killed before Lord Vader could get  
to them."  
"I know," said Luke heavily, rubbing his temple. "It was all  
for nothing."  
"At least we tried, right?" Jisk offered. "I mean… we've all  
been grounded for two months, but… We did our best. And we shot down  
three of their ships."  
"I tried using that argument, too," said Luke  
darkly. "According to Lord Omnipotent, it was inconsequential.'"  
The other trainees laughed nervously at Luke's comment,  
terrified to take part in such disrespect. The fact that Luke was  
actually Vader's son had only really sunk in that day, when they'd  
seen the difference between Luke's approach of the man and everyone  
else's in the galaxy. "So what are you going to do?" asked Lang,  
speaking for the first time.  
"I'm getting moved to a room near his quarters," said Luke,  
drawing the drawstrings closed on the sack and hoisting it over his  
shoulders.  
"Really?"  
Luke nodded.  
"Good luck," Vaskall said, standing. He shook Luke's  
hand. "I hope you'll come and see us every now and then."  
"I will," Luke promised. Jisk clapped him on the back.  
"Don't get too banged up, or the Medbay'll run out of  
Bacta," said the boy with a grin.  
"Thanks," said Luke dryly.  
Lang stood slowly. "Best of luck, Skywalker," he said  
heavily. Luke sensed a deep remorse coming from the boy, but  
couldn't place it.  
"Thanks, Captain," said Luke. "Tell the others that I'm  
sorry."  
"Will do," said Darmic. "Though Dase will be pretty pleased,  
I bet."

The ensign led Luke down a series of complicated lifts and  
corridors before they finally reached wing that had two doors on  
either side. He led the way to the closest on the left. "I believe  
that is your chamber, sir."  
Luke stared at the port. Every other door that he had seen  
on the Super Star Destroyer had an access keypad, but not one of the  
four had anything remotely similar. They were all blank.  
Luke thought a moment about trying to hotwire the doors open  
before he almost hit himself. Of course—only himself or his father  
were meant to enter them, so they would only open through the  
Force. "Thank you," he told the ensign distantly.  
"Of course, sir," said the man, practically running back  
down the hall out of his eagerness to get away from Luke.  
Luke concentrated for a second on his room and within  
seconds, the door opened. He stepped inside to investigate his new  
quarters. He wrinkled his nose. The room was devoid of any  
personality whatsoever—it was as sterile as the Medbay. It had a  
bed, a desk, and a worktable and a door that he presumed led to  
the fresher. Groaning, he lobbed his bag onto his bed and went over  
to inspect the various tools that lay on the durasteel worktable. It  
was a complete set, as far as he could tell, minus the heavier  
machinery. All of the tools were higher quality than those of Uncle  
Owen's farm. He winced as the memory of that night flashed unbidden  
across his mind. Sighing, he walked over to his bed and pulled out  
his belongings, which were rather meager.  
He had three uniforms, all of which were useless now, and  
some other clothes. That was it. When he'd been brought to the  
Executor, he'd had to leave everything—including his T-16 model—  
behind.  
Suddenly he sensed his father's presence coming down the  
corridor and jumped up, opening the door with ease just as Vader  
opened the door to his chambers. "Father," he said, and the enormous  
man turned around.  
"I see you have found your room," said Vader as way of  
greeting.  
"Can I come in?"  
"I am going to meditate."  
"Can I see your face without the mask?"  
Vader cocked his head slightly. "What face?" he questioned,  
his response embittered and immediate.  
"Father, you know that I know what happened"—  
"No."  
Luke sighed. "Fine. I'm really bored, though, and there's  
nothing to do in my room."  
"Go to sleep. Meditate. Build something," said Vader. "I am  
not here to entertain you."  
Luke rolled his eyes. "But…"  
"I am not in the mood for your questions," said Vader. "I am  
going to meditate. Find something to do." With that, he turned and  
entered his chambers. When Luke tentatively tested the door, he  
found that his father had used the Force to make it impossible to  
open. Groaning, he returned to his own room and flopped on the bed,  
falling asleep despite himself.

Luke adjusted to this new change in his life easily enough.  
Overnight, his clothes had disappeared to be replaced with  
monochromatic clothes like the ones that he had seen his father wear  
in his dream. He had obtained various odds and ends from the  
mechanics that now decorated his worktable and had stolen a mouse  
droid that he was trying to reprogram.  
His mornings were spent in meditation and when his father  
found the time, they spent much of the afternoon in the sparring  
room. Occasionally, Luke would sneak to the mess hall at mealtimes  
to try and find the pilot trainees.  
Almost a month passed and Luke began to wonder if his  
father's warning about Coruscant had been just a threat. Vader  
hadn't mentioned it since then—though he was a man of few words—and  
upon one of his questionings of a passing officer, they had left the  
Kessel system in favor of the Alderaan system.  
One morning, when he was preparing to meditate, the door to  
his room opened with a hiss and Luke glanced up to see his father  
standing in the doorway. "Come with me," the Sith said, and Luke  
scrambled up to follow his father down the hallway.  
"Where are we going?" he asked once he caught up with his  
father's impossibly long strides.  
"To Alderaan," said Vader shortly. "The Emperor has informed  
me that he suspects Bail Organa to be involved with a rebellious  
faction. I want you to observe his daughter to see if she knows  
anything."  
"Who's Bail Organa?"  
The respirator gave out a particularly loud whoosh. "He is  
the leader of Alderaan. His daughter is Princess Leia."  
"Wow! A princess?"  
"Yes. Use the Force to probe her mind, to see if she is  
aware of anything. She is running as senator for the Galactic  
Senate, so she may be privy to information with which Organa would  
not have otherwise trusted her."  
"What kind of information am I looking for?" Luke asked,  
feeling important that Vader trusted him with such an obviously  
significant mission.  
"Anything regarding a woman named Mon Mothma," said  
Vader. "She was once a high-profile political figure whom I now  
suspect to be the leader of a growing rebellion."  
"Oh," said Luke. "You actually trust me?"  
"Of course. You are my son, regardless of the fact that you  
disobeyed me," said Vader, sounding amused. "But I want you to  
introduce yourself as Luke Vader."  
"Why?" Luke asked, furrowing his brow. "Since when?"  
"Because Bail Organa knew Anakin Skywalker," said Vader, the  
vocoder giving him a grim tone. "And while he may have an idea of  
who I am, it would still be best not to encourage the idea."  
"Why not?" Luke asked, secretly pleased that his father had  
referred to himself—indirectly, at least—as Anakin Skywalker.  
Luke caught a wave of frustration. "Because I am a mystery  
and I want to keep it that way. There are several records about my  
former identity and I would prefer them kept silent."  
"Like what?"  
"Curse you and your relentless curiosity," said Vader,  
though Luke could tell that he wasn't truly angry. "It's of no  
consequence."  
"But if you don't want anyone to know about your past, then  
it's got to be important, right?" Luke reasoned.  
Vader ignored him. "Here," he said, producing Luke's  
lightsaber. "Take this, but only use it if you are in immediate  
danger. If Organa does know of my former identity, he may try to  
keep you on Alderaan."  
"Why?"  
"To use as leverage," said Vader, though that was not the  
true reason. If Bail knew that he was Anakin, he would probably try  
and keep Luke to protect him from the so-called Dark Side. No doubt  
Obi-Wan would have told him everything, including the reason for his  
imprisonment in the life-support suit. That alone was enough to make  
Vader want to kill the man, old ties or not.

The Executor was in orbit.  
That was a fact that kept repeating himself in Bail Organa's  
head. There were only two reasons why Darth Vader's ship would be in  
the Alderaani system—he had become aware of Bail's discreet aid to  
Mon Mothma, or he had learned of Leia's existence.  
He hoped to the Maker that it was the latter. Was Luke  
alive? If so, had Vader corrupted him into a servant of the Dark  
Side like he himself?  
Bail noticed someone waiting outside his office door. He  
stood heavily. "Enter," he said. A messenger walked inside  
nervously. "Your Highness, a shuttle from the Executor has landed,"  
he said. "The passengers on board have requested your presence."  
"Thank you," Bail said distantly, steeling himself. He would  
need to guard his thoughts. If the rumors of Vader were true, the  
slightest thought could betray him. He took several deep breaths to  
compose himself. Please, he begged silently, let there be something  
left of Anakin in him.

Fifteen minutes later, he was groomed and prepared to meet  
the visitors. The shuttle opened on the landing platform and Bail  
rooted himself against the fear as he saw the immense figure, black-  
cloaked figure descend. As the helmet and mask came into view, Bail  
swallowed. How could this be Anakin? How could Anakin have turned  
into this metal monster, this creature that was half cyborg?  
Bail was so focused upon Vader that he only noticed the  
small, black-clothed figure with a head of shining blond hair that  
trailed after the Sith until Vader stood in front of him. "Bail  
Organa," Vader said, the mechanical bass sending shivers down the  
Viceroy's spine.  
"Lord Vader," Bail acknowledged. That was not Anakin's  
voice. "How may I be of service?"  
"I have some questions for you, Organa," said Vader,  
clasping his hands behind his cloak and walking past the man, who  
turned immediately to walk at the Sith's side.  
"If I can answer them, I will. Please, come to my home where  
we may speak in comfort," said Bail unfalteringly. He took a mental  
deep breath, clearing his thoughts.  
Vader stopped and lifted a black-gloved hand in the  
direction of the blond boy, who was staring around at his  
surroundings in undisclosed awe. Bail's heart skipped a beat. Was  
that Luke? "My son will need to be entertained," he told. "Perhaps  
your daughter will give him a tour while we discuss some issues of  
importance."  
Bail was suddenly dry-mouthed. "Of course, Lord Vader," he  
said, clearing his throat. "I'm sure Leia will be delighted." He  
glanced at the boy and was almost sickened to see the lightsaber  
hanging at his belt. "I was not aware you had a son, my lord." He  
looked towards Luke. "I am Bail Organa," he said, extending a hand.  
"Luke," said the boy coolly, shaking the older man' hand  
with one that was black-gloved. Bail winced mentally. Obi-Wan had  
told him of the child's hand that he had found, but to be faced with  
it first-hand was more than he was prepared for. How could Anakin  
have cut off his own child's hand? Had the monster that was Vader  
truly destroyed him completely?  
Vader ignored the exchange. "My stormtroopers will accompany  
us," he rumbled, ten clones marching forward from the shuttle. Bail  
blanched. Was he being arrested? Vader had no proof to incriminate  
him!  
He turned to his aide. "Verett, please find Princess Leia  
and bring her to me," he said.  
The man bowed. "Right away, your Highness."  
Vader turned towards Bail. "I have received some interesting  
news concerning the latest trading partners of Alderaan, Organa," he  
said after a few excruciating minutes where his regulated breathing  
was the only sound between them.  
"If I can clear up any confusion, I will, of course," said  
Bail politely. "Will you be staying on Alderaan long?"  
"Hopefully not," said Vader, just as a short girl in a  
flowing white gown with her brown hair in braid down her back walked  
into the landing platform. She walked to Bail quickly, her eyes  
glancing up to Vader and showing fear for a split second before she  
carefully schooled her features. "Father," she said. "You called for  
me?"  
"Yes, my dear," said Bail, reluctant to let her leave his  
side. "This is Lord Vader and his son," he explained, motioning  
towards Luke. "Lord Vader and I need to converse over some various  
matters and I would like you to show Luke around."  
"Of course," said Leia with a gracious smile. She gave a  
small bow towards Vader, who regarded her impassively. "My pleasure,  
my lord."  
With a barely perceptible nod, Vader stalked past her and  
said, "Come," to the Viceroy, who immediately obeyed. Within  
seconds, Leia and Luke were left alone with just two stormtroopers  
as guards.  
Luke was enthralled. He had never seen a more beautiful  
creature in his life than the girl who stood before him. The slight  
breeze of Alderaan caused her dress to sway gently around her  
ankles. "I am Princess Leia Organa of Alderaan," said the girl,  
raising herself to a height that was just barely shorter than  
Luke. "Welcome to my homeworld."  
"Thank you," said Luke. "I'm Luke Sk"—he stopped himself  
before saying the whole word. "I'm Luke Vader."  
"Are you really Vader's son?" she asked, narrowing her eyes.  
A flash of annoyance crossed his face. "Yes," he snapped,  
forgetting her beauty and station. "And it is Lord Vader' to you."  
Her eyes flashed. "I'm well aware," she said stiffly. After  
a few moments, she allowing her intrigue to overpower the manners  
bred in her since she was a child and asked, "Why does he where that  
suit?"  
"That's none of your business," Luke snapped, his original awe for  
the girl dissipating.  
"I'm sorry," she amended. "It was not my place."  
They walked in uncomfortable silence for a few  
moments. "You're running for senator?" Luke ventured, recognizing  
that he had been perhaps too touchy about the issue of his father.  
She smiled. "Yes. My mother was a senator, and I hope to  
follow in her footsteps." Luke said nothing, not having any  
words. "Have you ever visited Alderaan before?" asked Leia, trying  
to find common ground.  
"No," Luke admitted. "The only planets I've ever been on are  
Tatooine and Kessel," he explained."  
"Kessel?" She sounded horrified. "You were a...?"  
"No, of course not," he said with his first smile of the  
day. "I hijacked a TIE fighter with five of my friends to try and  
save the guards from the Kessel rebels," he said. "We shot down  
three fighters."  
"Wow!" she said with surprise. "Where do you live?"  
"On the Executor," Luke said as though it was the most  
obvious thing in the world. "It is my father's flagship."  
"But don't you have a homeworld?" Leia furrowed her brow.  
"Yes. Tatooine," said Luke darkly. "But we both hate it  
there. He's got a house somewhere, but we've never visited." They  
stepped out of the landing bay down some steps to a paved path that  
led into the trees. Luke stared at the landscape, his mouth  
open. "I've never seen so many trees in my life!"  
Leia laughed. "Alderaan is famous for its vegetation," she  
said, glad that the awkwardness had disappeared. "It's a beautiful  
planet."  
"I agree," said Luke, craning his head to try and see the  
tops of the trees.  
"You're not quite what I would have expected," said Leia  
suddenly, before she could stop herself. Her cheekbones went pink.  
"How do you mean?" Luke asked, lowering his gaze from the  
foliage to her face.  
"Well…" Leia was clearly unsure of how to proceed. "Your  
father is Darth Vader."  
"So?"  
"I just didn't think that you would be so nice." The words  
were out before she could stop them. "I'm so sorry! I can't seem to  
keep my mouth shut!"  
His eyes flashed. "What's wrong with my father?"  
"Nothing," Leia remedied. "It's just… He is the Emperor's  
right hand man," she said, and Luke noticed a barely perceptible  
flash of disgust flit through her eyes before it disappeared.  
"And?" His voice was harder than he had meant.  
"I apologize," said Leia. "I've been far too relaxed in my  
manner." She drew herself up. "Come. I will show you the Palace."

Luke crossed his arms and Leia noticed his black-gloved  
hand. "You know nothing about my father," he said, the words coming  
out harsher than he meant.  
"You're right," said Leia quickly. "I've only talked to him  
a few times in my life."  
"You've talked to him before?" Luke's anger—as always—left  
him as quickly as it had come.  
"Well, yes, on Coruscant," she said. "Sometimes he acts as  
the Emperor's representative for social functions."  
He raised his eyebrows. "Oh."  
"Have you ever seen a lake?" she asked brightly, hoping to  
change the subject. Why had her father subjected her to this? She  
had nothing to talk about with the son of Darth Vader, of all  
people! She beat down the thought, composing herself. She was  
Princess Leia of Organa, future Galactic Senator. She was beyond a  
mere boy, even one such as Luke Vader, or whatever his name was.

"How may I be of service to the Empire, Lord Vader?" asked  
Bail once they were inside his private office. "I must say, your  
arrival was unexpected, Lord Vader," said Bail as he accepted the  
cup from his aide. He hadn't known whether to offer the Dark Lord  
anything, but he assumed, from Obi-Wan's description, that he was  
unable to remove the mask unless in a specialized environment.  
The man—was he even a man any more?—stood in front of the  
enormous window that gave a magnificent view of a lake. The sunlight  
glinted off of the surface of the water and off of his helmet. "As  
was the news of your dealings with Mon Mothma, Organa," said Vader  
smoothly. "Tell me, how long have you been involved in a conspiracy  
against the Empire?"  
Since its conception, Bail thought to himself bitterly  
before composing himself. "I'm afraid that I don't know what you're  
talking about, Lord Vader," he said. "Alderaan is a peaceful nation.  
We have no desire to become involved in any conspiracy of any sort."  
"Do not lie to me, Organa," said Vader. "I am not such a  
fool that I would believe the word of one allied with Kenobi."  
Bail nearly choked before he pulled his political mask over  
his features. How could he know? There was nothing, no documents or  
recordings that proved his communication with the Jedi Master! "I  
have not spoken to or seen Master Kenobi in nearly fourteen years,  
Lord Vader," he said. "I have completely severed ties. In fact, I  
assumed that he was dead."  
"What is the extent of your deal with the Rebels?" Vader  
asked, turning round to face Organa.  
"I must repeat myself, Lord Vader"—but suddenly Bail was cut  
off, as though an invisible hand was wrapped around his throat,  
squeezing, tighter and tighter—  
"Lies are futile, Organa," Vader hissed, his hand raised and  
finger crooked.  
"Please, Anakin"—Bail gasped. "Anakin, do not do this! Do  
you not remember? What have you become, that you cast aside your  
friends of old so easily?"  
"Anakin Skywalker is dead," Vader said, using the Force to  
lift the man into the air. "I want to know where Mon Mothma and her  
pitiful band of followers are hiding."  
"Anakin, I know that you are still there!" Bail cried, his  
voice growing weaker as the oxygen was forced from his lungs. "Cast  
aside this anger at Obi-Wan, at the Jedi! You have been decieved and  
enslaved by Palpatine!" Bail let go of all pretenses, praying that  
somehow his words would have some effect on the terrifying  
mechanical monster that had once been his friend.  
His body slammed into the wall of the parlor, shattering the  
mirror that hung above a low table. He fell to the floor, quickly  
losing consciousness as the lack of oxygen and the pain overcame  
him. His last sight was of the shiny black boots that crunched over  
the glass and dug into the floor. "As are you, Organa."  
He stared at the crumpled figure for a few moments with a  
twinge of guilt. Bail had been a good friend, he remembered. It was  
a pity that he had chosen to defy the Emperor.

"I'm sure Father will give us permission to take the  
speeders," said Leia as they turned the corner. They had walked  
through the garden, keeping the conversation mostly light. Luke had  
shown an appreciation for the natural beauty of Alderaan that had  
surprised Leia to no end. From what her father had told her of Darth  
Vader, it didn't seem possible that his son would be capable of such  
good taste.  
Not that Luke hadn't shown hints of his parentage. The look  
in his young eyes had been almost scary when she made mention of his  
father. It seemed that he was fiercely protective of the Sith,  
despite the fact that he was a mass murderer. She had learned that  
he had spent most of his life as a farmboy on Tatooine, slaving away  
for his aunt and uncle when his father had shown up one day and  
taken him aboard the Executor. She had pressed him for details,  
intrigued by the story, but he had seemed uncomfortable and his  
glance had turned to his gloved hand for than once.  
"As are you, Organa."  
Leia turned to see her father's broken body at the feet of  
Darth Vader. She let out a blood-curdling scream and ran to him,  
abandoning all pretenses as Princess or senator and acting merely as  
a daughter. She knew, somehow, that Bail Organa was dead even before  
she reached him. Vader just stared at her unmoving as hate filled  
her so completely that it drove out all feelings of doubt she had  
for the monster—the doubt that someone completely evil could produce  
a person like Luke.  
She glared up at him, tears blurring her gaze and reducing  
the Dark Lord to a black mass. "How could you? He did nothing wrong!"  
"He was a traitor to the Empire, Princess," the ominous  
voice said. "And I would advise you not to follow in his ways."  
Vader turned towards Luke, who stood pale at the door. "Luke, come.  
We are finished here."  
Leia barely noticed their departure as she cradled her  
father's head. Vader would pay for this, she swore silently,  
committing herself against the man with all her heart. And if that  
meant defying the Empire… then so be it.

"Why did you kill him?" Luke asked, troubled, as they  
returned to the shuttle. The dying sun cast a strange glow over the  
ship and off of Vader's helmet.  
"He was a traitor, and loyal to the Jedi," said Vader. "Did  
you doubt that?"  
"No, but…" Luke began, struggling to put his thoughts to  
words. "By killing him, you have just made Alderaan more likely to  
discontinue their support of the Empire. As well as making Leia an  
enemy for life."  
"Then we will use her to find Mothma," said Vader  
unconcernedly. "Speaking of which, did you find anything from the  
girl?"  
"No," said Luke, furrowing his brow and wishing he had a  
different answer. "Her mind was guarded, it seemed. I could not  
penetrate it."  
"Strange," said Vader as they ascended the ramp of the  
shuttle and sat. The ramp closed with the hiss of hydraulics. "The  
girl is not Force-sensitive. It is curious that her mind is  
shielded."  
"Maybe she has information to hide," Luke offered.  
"None but a Jedi could create such a shield," said Vader,  
thinking aloud. He remembered Bail's words. "Cast aside this anger  
at Obi-Wan, at the Jedi!"  
Bail Organa had been a Jedi-sympathizer. And Vader had felt  
a sense of dishonesty all throughout the interrogation, and would  
not have noticed if it was particularly present when the man had  
claimed not to have contacted Kenobi. That meant that he had known  
about Luke.  
Vader clenched his fists. It always came back to Obi-Wan.

Once they returned to the Executor, the news that notorious  
pacifist Bail Organa had been executed by Darth Vader had already  
hit the holonet. There was a cry of outrage all throughout the  
Galaxy, gone unchecked because there had been no Imperial statement  
about the issue.  
"My lord Vader, the Emperor has requested to speak to you,"  
said a terrified ensign once Vader and Luke stepped off of the  
shuttle. Vader gave no sign that he had heard.  
"Return to your room," he told Luke, holding out his hand  
for the lightsaber, which Luke reluctantly relinquished. "Meditate  
until I arrive."  
Luke nodded and walked past the stormtroopers, all of whom  
shuffled out of the way. With a mental sigh, Vader headed towards  
the special broadcast room that was reserved for his communication  
with the Emperor alone. Had he acted too rashly in killing Organa?  
Perhaps he could have been made useful. As soon as he arrived, he  
knelt down on the broadcast pad and waited for the signal from the  
Emperor to project.  
"Rise, my friend," the rasping voice of the Emperor echoed  
around the chamber.  
Vader stood swiftly. "Why is thy bidding, Master?"  
"I understand that you disposed of Organa," said the  
Emperor. "Excellent. He was becoming far too popular." Vader said  
nothing. "We shall have to worry about the girl, though."  
Luke's warning about Leia reverberated through Vader's helmet. Had  
his son and his Master foreseen something that he had not? "You have  
done well, my apprentice," said the Emperor. "I think you should  
return to Coruscant. I have yet to meet your offspring. There will  
be no need for your services for some time, I have foreseen it."  
Vader forced himself to respond. "Yes, my master."  
"How does the boy's training go?"  
It was futile to lie. "He progresses well, Master. He has  
much anger in him."  
"Good," the Emperor crooned. "Go, my friend. I look forward  
to our meeting."  
"Yes, my master."  
Vader let out a sigh once the Emperor's holo flickered out.  
Despite all his hopes, Luke would meet his master.  
He only hoped that the boy's shields were strong enough.

It was two days later that Luke looked up from his worktable  
to see his father standing at his doorway. The Sith held a small,  
struggling mouse droid in his gloved hand. "What is this?"  
Luke fought the urge to laugh. "It's mine," he explained,  
lifting his hand and calling the droid to his palm. "I reprogrammed  
it to act as a messenger."  
"Its persistence interrupted me from my meditation," said  
Vader, bemused.  
"Sorry," said Luke, standing. "I wanted to see if you were  
interested in sparring." He glanced around his room,  
gesturing. "It's pretty dull in here."  
"I see," said Vader, walking into the room. "These four  
chambers were originally one suite, but I had them modified," he  
told Luke. "What was your impression of the girl?"  
"Who, Leia?" Luke asked stupidly, a flush rising to his  
cheeks. He shrugged. "I don't know. She was pretty candid at first,  
I suppose. Kept asking me about you."  
"Oh?"  
"She wanted to know why you wore the suit," said Luke, his  
expression darkening for a split second. Vader noted with interest  
that he had clenched his fists. "I told her it was none of her  
business, of course, and she shut up."  
"Of course," Vader said easily enough, walking over to  
inspect Luke's latest project. "You should install a mini-vocoder on  
the mouse droid so that it can more effectively relay messages. And  
modifying its form will make it less noticeable."  
"Thanks," said Luke, gratified. He jotted down the ideas  
onto a datapad that lay on the table.  
Vader said nothing. "We are heading towards Coruscant," he  
said finally. "The Emperor has decided to recall me so that he can  
meet you," he explained.  
Luke paled and set down the datapad. "Oh. So this wasn't  
just idle conversation?"  
"I want to remind you to continue work on your shields,"  
said Vader. "It is imperative that you do so."  
"What can I do to let him know I'm loyal?"  
"You can do nothing," said Vader. "He will know if you are  
and if you are not."  
"Oh," said Luke, standing. He stared at his father's  
unmoving form for a moment. "Do you want to fence?"  
"You don't seem to understand"—  
"I do," Luke interrupted, astonished at his own  
brazenness. "But right now, we're stuck in hyperspace and I'm not  
going to improve my shields in a day or two."  
His son's logic sensible, Vader finally nodded. "Very well."  
Luke managed a small smile and walked past his father to the  
training room next door.


	7. Meeting The Emperor

Another Route

Part 7

----

Luke met his father on the bridge of the _Executor_ at exactly 0800 hours, Coruscant time, two days later. He was dressed in his now-customary clothes—a black tunic, a black surcoat, and black leggings. He was long since past wondering if Coruscant was just short on colored dyes and now accepted his monochromatic wardrobe, only wishing that he had a lightsaber to hang at his belt.

Luke gasped when the viewport showed him his first glimpse of the Galaxy's capital—Coruscant, the planet that was one gigantic city. "How many people live there?" he asked his father, who was watching the scene impassively.

"In the trillions, I would guess," said Vader. "It is of no account."

"Of course not," said Luke, his nervousness for the impending meeting causing him to be sarcastic.

"Remember what I told you," said Vader.

"I know, I know," said Luke wearily. "Don't think too much. Be aware of my shields at all times. Don't lie. Bow when I get there."

Vader said nothing for a few moments until an ensign approached them nervously. "My lord," he said, his shaking hands betraying his emotions. "The shuttle is prepared for your departure, my lord."

Vader turned. "Come," he said, glad for once that his vocoder didn't belie his heaviness.

Luke had never seen anything like Coruscant in his life. Speeders zoomed everywhere and in all directions. As their shuttle drew near to the Imperial Sector, he felt an unexplainable sense of power permeate his bones. He glanced up at his father, who registered his unease. "The Emperor," Vader explained shortly.

Luke fought back the apprehension that he felt in his stomach. He had to be collected when he appeared before the Emperor, he had to be strong. He reached for the Force to calm himself and his father noticed, and did the same.

There was an honor guard of stormtroopers that accompanied them up the steps of an enormous building once they disembarked the shuttle. Vader walked ahead of Luke, his cloak sweeping behind him, aided by the winds of Coruscant.

They were not interrupted as they made the trek to the throne room. Luke wished they had. The power that the Emperor exuded was terrifying, and it chilled him to the core. Was that the ultimate mastery of the Force? Is that what he could become, in time? Some part of him said that it was what he must strive towards, but his other half was sickened by it. Remembering his father's warning, Luke cleared his mind of thoughts and worries just as two men garbed completely in red swung open two large doors.

Vader walked swiftly forward and at the base of a set of steps, bent down to one knee. Luke followed suit, his heart starting to pound despite himself.

"Ah…"

Luke fought the urge to shiver at the voice. It crackled with raw power, but it was also warped, somehow, and grated against his ears.

"Lord Vader, and…young Skywalker. I have much looked forward to this meeting, boy. Stand up."

Luke did as he was told and saw a strangely shaped chair, the visage of a man in black robes hidden in the shadows. He recalled that his father had told him not to speak unless asked a question.

"You have much potential, I sense," said Palpatine. "How goes your training?"

"Well, your highness," Luke said, glad that his voice betrayed none of his emotions. Was that the proper address? Or was he supposed to call the man 'master' like his father did?

"Come now, there is no need for such petty trivialities. I am a Sith, before anything else. Address me as 'master,' young Skywalker."

"Yes, Master," said Luke immediately.

The Emperor let out a slow laugh. "You have coached him well, my friend," he said to Vader, who stood. "He will become a useful servant in time."

"Yes, my master," said Vader, his voice echoing in the chamber.

"I heard of your exploits at Kessel, boy," said the Emperor, turning his attention back to Luke. "You seem to have inherited your father's skill for flying."

Luke didn't know if he was supposed to answer. Would it be rude to agree?

"But the circumstances of your trip to Kessel were most displeasing," The Sith continued. "There was no reason for you to risk your life over a mere guard. See to it that nothing of the sort happens again."

"Yes, my master," Luke said quietly. So it had been wrong of him to try and save Jons' father?

"So, you like your new life with your father, boy?"

Luke was puzzled by the question. Why did it matter? "Yes, master," he replied, confused.

"Do you miss your surrogate family?"

What kind of questions were these? "I regret that they died in the manner they did," said Luke, knowing that it would be a sign of weakness to tell the despot that he longed to go back in time and stop his father from killing Beru.

He laughed, a horrible sound that filled the chamber. "I see. And are you loyal to me, boy? Loyal like your father?"

Luke was sickened for a reason he didn't understand at the question. "Of course, master," he replied.

"I think that you both could use time to focus upon training," said the Emperor suddenly. "Take leave, my friend, and take your son with you."

Vader was puzzled. His master had told him that he had not foreseen requiring his service in the future, but nonetheless, he rarely went off duty. "Yes, my master," Vader said, turning around and striding out of the chamber after a brief hesitation. Luke did the same, feeling the Emperor's eyes on his back the entire time. Once they were once again in the corridor, Luke let out a relieved breath. "That seemed to go all right," he said, reassured.

Vader didn't reply. "Come," he said shortly, using a tendril of the Force to yank Luke forward, who protested.

"I can walk," he said.

"Then do so," said Vader.

Luke sensed that his father was uneasy, which was a very strange emotion for him. "What's wrong?" he asked, jogging to keep up with the Sith's impossibly long strides.

"Do not speak of it," said Vader. Luke attempted a mind probe, and felt himself pushed out of Vader's mind immediately. "Do not even try," his father said, and Luke felt the anger that was always close to the surface begin to boil.

"You do it to me," Luke protested.

"That's different," said Vader as they rounded a corner, heading for the exit of the building.

"How?" Luke countered as they entered the courtyard of the Imperial Palace. A short aide rushed towards them, but father and son ignored him.

Vader didn't reply. He turned to the man beside them. "What?" he barked, enjoying the ripple of fear from the aide.

"Sir—my lord—there is a speeder waiting for you," the man mumbled out in a rush, pale.

"Very well," said the Sith. "Come," he told his son.

"I'm not a dog," Luke said irritably. "If you started walking somewhere, I'd follow you."

The aide gasped out loud at Luke's apparent rudeness, and backed away, clearly expecting Luke to drop dead in a second like those who offended the Dark Lord were wont to do.

"That's enough," said Vader in a low voice. He turned, ignoring the man, and followed his senses to the black speeder that awaited them.

"Black. How surprising," said Luke wearily. "I expected pink. Or orange."

"Get in," said Vader tersely.

"What's your problem?" Luke asked as he climbed in the passenger side, knowing better than to ask Vader to drive. "Normally I'd get even a half-snort from that type of comment."

He seemed to have completely recovered from his meeting with the Emperor, Vader realized. And had now reverted to his annoying self. He, however, was not so reassured by the Emperor's apparent kindness as was his son. "I am concerned that he has given me leave," he said finally, knowing that his son would persist.

"Why? Is vacation so wrong? You're the biggest workaholic in the entire Galaxy," Luke said. "Plus, I want to go see your house. The ship is nice and all, but it gets old."

"My house?" Vader asked, letting the workaholic comment slide. What did his son know? It was he who ran the Empire, not the Emperor. The man who commands the military commands the respect and generates the loyalty. To do so requires time.

"Yes," said Luke, annoyed. "Four walls, a roof. Sometimes has a garden. A kitchen, usually."

Sarcasm was his latest thing, apparently, Vader observed. "Off-duty, I retreat to a world in the Mid-Rim."

Luke's jaw dropped open. "Wait, what? A _world_?"

"Yes," said Vader, amused. "It is a planet hidden in the path of a Gas Giant. After the last Jedi Council member was disposed of, it was a reward of sorts," he explained. "It is uninhabited."

"Wow!" Luke said, his eyes wide with surprise and shock. "You own a whole world?"

"We have established that. Actually, I own several stars and their systems, but this one is the only habitable one."

"What's it called?" Luke asked eagerly as his father effortlessly guided the speeder through the traffic.

"Bain."

"Wow!" Luke repeated. "Is that where you're going?"

Vader looked at him. "The residence is engineered as an environment entirely composed of oxygen," he told Luke.

"I don't care! I could wear a mask or something!" Luke said.

"I will contact my droids and have them reengineer it," Vader said heavily. "If you want to go there."

"But I could just wear a flight-suit or something!" Luke protested. "Don't do all that."

"And wear a breathing mask for the entire stay?" Vader asked dryly. "Despite appearances, it isn't as fun as it looks."

It took Luke a second to recognize his father's strange sense of humor, and grinned. "I can handle it. Please?"

Vader groaned mentally. "Fine," he said finally, and Luke beamed.

"This is going to be awesome!"

Though they tried to hide it, the crewmembers of the _Executor _were very, very relieved to learn that Vader was taking leave for an undefined amount of time. They had seen more active duty than most of the ships in the Imperial Navy, and since Vader would not allow his ship to be commanded by anyone but himself it meant that they were all due for the first recess in over a year.

A standard day before Luke's departure for Bain, he managed to escape his room and say goodbye to the pilot trainees, whom he hadn't seen in some time. He used the Force to cloak him from curious eyes and made his way down to the pilot wing, hoping that they would all be in the barracks rather than a flight sim.

When the door opened, Luke was surprised to see the entire group present, though there were two new faces he didn't recognize.

"Skywalker!" Jisk shouted in greeting, jumping up to greet him. After Kessel, they had all forgotten their fear of his father and had moved on, though the portion of the squad that hadn't been involved was still considerably afraid.

"Jisk," Luke greeted with a grin, as Vaskall, Darmic, and finally Lang stood to greet him.

"It's been a while," said Vaskall.

"Yeah, I heard you went down to Alderaan to meet the princess!" said Darmic excitedly. "What was her name? Did you talk to her?"

Luke rolled his eyes. "Where did you hear that?"

"Ah… BT-39-05 told JT-08-02, who mentioned it to the protocol droid D-DE1, and he told R2-F4 who told the mainframe," Darmic explained.

"You're taking the word of an astromech, who took the word of a protocal droid, who took the words of stormtroopers?" Luke asked with a grin.

"Did you?" Darmic persisted.

"Yes."

Darmic swore. "You get all the lucky breaks."

"You call Lord Vader as a father a lucky break?" Lang asked dubiously. "Life's not all about girls, Darmic."

The boy shrugged. "What was she like?"

Luke laughed. "I just came to say goodbye. I don't have much time."

"Where are you going?" asked Jisk, frowning.

Luke wasn't sure if Bain was a secret or not, so he decided to alter the truth a little bit. "I'm going on leave with my father."

Darmic hissed in sympathy. "Ouch."

Luke raised his eyebrows. "It's not that bad."

"Maybe not for you," said the boy with a shudder.

Luke watched eagerly as they approached the gigantic green Gas Giant. His father piloted the sleek, silvery ship that they had taken from Coruscant. They traveled alone, as both doubted that their greatest protection would be in stormtroopers.

Vader had remained quieter than usual throughout the trip, so Luke had spent most of his time meditating, the calm environment of hyperspace strangely conducive to his relaxation.

But still the three days that it took to reach Bain could not be spent completely in meditation, and Luke had had to force himself to stay away from Vader, knowing that if he began asking questions his father would lose his temper very quickly.

"How far is it?" Luke ventured once they seemed to pass the gas planet.

"Not very," Vader replied shortly.

Luke fell silent, hoping that the strange mood his father had been in since their meeting with the Emperor would wear off if he got some vacation time.

It was nighttime when they finally arrived. The landing pad was brightly lit, though, and Luke heard and saw rushing water below them. His father strode away from the ship into the dark, and Luke followed, using the Force to help him see better. It seemed that the way his father was walking was straight into a sheer cliff.

His suspicious were realized when they walked through a high archway carved out of a strange, ebony-colored rock. There were lights on the wall that lit themselves as Vader passed, illuminating the walls.

They seemed to walk for at least a quarter of a mile before they finally reached a durasteel door that gleamed in the light. Vader paused. "Prepare your breathing apparatus," he said, regretting his decision to allow his son to wear that rather than change part of the residence to accommodate him.

Luke obeyed, placing the partial mask over his mouth and nose and turning on the breather. Vader could feel his son's excitement. With a mental sigh, he opened the door with the force and stepped inside.

Luke's immediate reaction was awe. They stood in an immensely high-ceiling room with floors of the same strange black stone of the cliff with black drapes in each corner. The ceiling was overlaid with mirrors, so it seemed that it extended forever. There were two identical ebony wood tables on either side of the hall that extended in front of them, each with a basin of good-smelling water that gave the enormous room a pleasant smell that Luke could barely detect through the respirator.

"Come," Vader said, walking forward to the hall. He ignored Luke's rolled eyes and walked down the room.

There were ten identical durasteel doors on either side of the hall, and one at the end. Vader stopped at the first one. "This is my library," he explained. "Enter this room only with my supervision." He turned to the next one. "The kitchen and other utilities. It is off limits. If you are hungry, send a request and a droid will bring food to you." Luke nodded to show that he understood. Vader went through the rest—a meditation room that Luke was free to use, a parlor, a gigantic workroom, a training room, a military room, Luke's quarters, storage, and a broadcast room used for communication with the Emperor. When they at last reached the final door, Vader seemed to hesitate. "These are my chambers," he said finally. "You are not to enter under any circumstances."

Luke nodded, slightly bewildered. "I understand."

"Good," said Vader. "Dismissed." Without another word, the door to his quarters opened with a hiss and he disappeared inside, leaving Luke standing in the immense corridor looking very confused. After a few moments, he returned to the door that his father had designated as his own, and walked in to see a spacious chamber with a bed, bookshelf, closet, workroom, and desk. It was much like his quarters on the _Executor_, though slightly more luxurious. With a sigh, he flopped down on the bed, wincing as his breather started flashing as he had accidentally pressed some buttons.

_You are free to remove the breather in your room, _his father's voice told him, somewhat dryly. _I would not make you sleep with it, though I was tempted to because of your stubbornness._

_Thanks, _Luke said gratefully, removing the mask and inhaling deeply.

The next morning, Luke woke and dressed quickly, excited to explore the strange residence. He went into the hall and got very light-headed until he realized that he had forgotten the portable breather in his room. Groaning, he returned and put on the apparatus, stepping back into the hall and heading towards his father's durasteel door, hoping to spar.

He attempted to open the door using the Force but was unable to. Frowning, he sent, _Can I come it?_

The response was immediate. _No. If you're hungry there is a control panel in your room and a droid will serve you._

_That's not it, _Luke protested. _I wanted to fence!_

_That is not possible._

_But I thought that the Emperor sent us here to train!_

Luke sensed some hesitation from his father. _There are droids in the training room that I have built for lightsaber practice. Use those. _With that, their link was cut and Luke was left alone.

Moaning in frustration as he realized that he didn't even have a lightsaber, he went back to his room and ordered some food. After he had eaten, he decided to check out the training room in hopes that there would be a spare lightsaber that he could practice with.

Having committed the doors to memory, he went down the hall and found the correct door. It opened with just a touch of the Force and he walked in, noticing the ten or so powered-down droids in the far end of the room. He jogged over, watching himself in the mirrors that lined the walls.

He saw the droids clutched lightsabers and peered closer. He reached out and tried to pry one from the first droid but suddenly the twin photoreceptors on the droid's head blazed to life. Luke jumped back in surprise and then grew alarmed when all of the other battle droids turned on, as if triggered by the one.

Making things worse, the original droid's lightsaber suddenly ignited and it started marching towards Luke. He went very pale for a moment and backed away, eyeing the ledges that were located at certain points on the wall.

Suddenly one of the other droids made an enormous leap towards Luke and activated its lightsaber as well. Luke reached out and vainly tried to use the Force to call the weapon from its arm, but it seemed that it was somehow welded to the metal. Swearing silently to himself, he backed into a corner as the droid started twirling the lightsaber.

He crouched his legs and leapt over it to the other side of the room, where no droids had moved yet. Belatedly, he remembered the breather that he had yet to attach to his clothing, and the mask flew off his face across the room.

Immediately he closed his mouth and held his breath, knowing that he wouldn't be able function properly if he started breathing the pure oxygen when his body wasn't used to it. Gathering himself and the Force, he jumped up to one of the ledges on the wall and managed to grab on with his right hand. For once, he was actually grateful for the prosthetic—it was far stronger than his left hand.

He tried swinging himself up, but the ledge was too narrow at only a handspan deep. His lungs began straining for air and he truly starting to panic as two more droids with lightsabers clustered below him.

He unconsciously cried out as one of the droids jumped into the air and swung at his leg, nicking the flesh. Any hope that he had had that the lightsabers were on sting-mode only disappeared as the saber cut through the cloth and left a bad burn in his leg. Too late, he realized that he had stopped holding his breath, and his head began to spin. His vision began to blur and he focused on holding onto the ledge, knowing that if he let go he'd be killed in an instant.

_Luke!_

Luke barely recognized his father's voice in his head. His consciousness began to dim as he weakly sent back, _Father…. Help…_

_I'm coming!_

Luke started losing control of his prosthetic arm, which was all that was holding him up. His left and long since fallen limp at his side, and his head lolled to side, just as he faintly heard the hiss of the door open.

He finally fell into unconsciousness and let go, tumbling the fifteen feet to the ground.

"Luke!"

Luke opened his eyes to see the blurry visage of a sickly pale, bald-headed man with terrible scars covering most of his face looming over his. He had blue eyes, though, that looked clearly worried. Luke heard the hiss of a portable breather next to him and felt a mask over his mouth, pushing air into his lungs.

Luke's vision cleared. "Father?" he asked weakly.

The man nodded. "Sit up," he said, and his voice was so weak that Luke didn't hear him at first. He closed his eyes briefly and repeated it, and this time Luke heard him, and obeyed. He was lying on the floor of the training room, and the droids that had been attacking had powered down.

The first thing he was aware of was a stabbing pain in his legs. He looked down and saw the ugly burn on one and couldn't identify the pain on the other. "You've broken your leg," Vader said in that strange, hoarse voice.

"What happened?" Luke asked weakly as he took in the image of his father. He wore black clothes—unsurprisingly—that vaguely reminded Luke of his apparel in various dreams. He still wore black gloves.

"You fell after you lost consciousness," explained his father. "I came in just as you were falling, but I didn't have a chance to slow your fall because of the droids."

"I didn't mean to turn them on," Luke said, his own pain and confusion erasing any surprise or disgust about his father's appearance. He screwed up his face in pain as another sharp pain hit him when he had moved his broken leg.

"I should not have sent you in here," said Vader. "I had forgotten that I'd taken your lightsaber away."

"Does that mean I can have it back?" Luke asked hopefully.

"While you're here," his father conceded. "Try not to move. I'm going to take you to my medcenter."

Luke didn't have time to ask why his father had his own personal medcenter when his father bent down and picked him up, his injuries sending screams of protest to his brain. Biting his lip, Luke rested his head against his father's chest, not caring how juvenile it looked.

They entered into Vader's private chambers but Luke didn't notice his surroundings until they went through another door into a highly sterile smelling room. Vader laid him on a patient gurney and addressed a 2-1B unit that had entered the room. "Dress the burn," he told the droid. "And set the leg as best you can. I want it fully functional as soon as possible."

"Yes, Master Vader," said the 2-1B unit immediately. "Do you want him to take a Bacta dip?"

"That's not necessary," Vader rasped.

"Then it's settled. Allow this 2-1B unit to care for you," said Vader, turning and leaving his son on the operating table.

Luke opened his eyes and yawned, the action difficult through the breathing mask over his mouth. His legs were only a dull ache. He struggled to sit up and found himself on a comfortable bed, propped up by pillows. He looked around himself and whistled at the hi-tech, high-quality medical equipment around him. He raised his eyebrows when he saw the full-sized Bacta tank in the corner. "Wow."

"I come here occasionally to try and heal my body," an unfamiliar, rasping voice said, and Luke turned his attention towards the door, where his father's presence was. He had been too close to unconsciousness before to really notice Vader's appearance, but now that he was lucid, the horrible results of Mustafar were readily apparent. Scars disfigured the lower half of his face and his eyes, while still brilliantly blue, were red-rimmed. His head was completely bald, with various vicious-looking scars discoloring the abnormally pale skin.

"Oh," said Luke after a moment. His father merely looked at him.

"Do I meet your expectations?" Vader asked hoarsely, one brow lifted. Despite his attitude, Luke sensed a great discomfort from his father.

"Not as bad as I thought," said Luke honestly.

"You must have a vivid imagination," said Vader dryly, the tone getting across much more effectively in his natural voice. Luke felt the rush of relief and grinned.

"Does this mean that you're not going to spend the entire time in your chambers?" Luke asked hopefully.

"No. I will be modifying the gaseous environment," said Vader.

"Father, you don't have to…"

"A breather is impractical if it you cannot live normally with it," Vader told Luke.

"But you come here to get out of the stupid suit, it's not fair"—

"Luke," said Vader firmly, affixing the boy with a stare that was almost as effective as with the mask. "I can keep my own chambers in oxygen," he said. "I am perfectly used to my mask."

"But it isn't fair!" Luke protested. "You shouldn't have to wear it all the time!"

"You may tell Obi-Wan that next time you travel to the past," said Vader wryly. "I'm sure you'll find that he had other priorities than my own comfort in the future."

"But…"

"This is final, Luke," said Vader more seriously. "I won't have you endangering yourself because you are not accustomed to a breather. I think that we can both agree you want to keep as many of your limbs as possible."

"Well, yeah…" Luke conceded. "But it isn't fair," he muttered.

"Life is not always fair," said Vader bitterly, and Luke got the distinct impression that he wasn't talking about his damaged body only. He stood.

"Where are you going?" Luke protested. "Can you stay here and talk to me?"

Vader looked at his son with surprise, and realized that the incident had scared the boy more than the youth wanted to admit. "Are you in need of assistance?" he asked finally, unsure of how to respond.

Luke furrowed his brow. "Not exactly…"

"What is it, then?"

He shrugged. "I don't know… The 2-1B isn't wired for personality. Not good conversation."

"And I am?" Vader asked.

Luke grinned. "No. But maybe you can tell me more about my mother," he proposed quietly.

Vader stiffened. "What?" he questioned roughly, his scarred vocal cords straining.

"You only told me her name," Luke explained nervously. "What did she look like? Was she short like me? How did you meet?"

Vader didn't speak for several minutes. Talking about his beloved wife was the last thing he wanted, but his son (her son) had just been through an ordeal… Perhaps he could tell Luke something about his angelic mother. "Very well," he said finally. Luke beamed. "She had brown hair and brown eyes," he began slowly. "And in stature she was very much like you." He stopped. How could he properly educate his son on his mother? He didn't want the dry facts; he wanted something more. "We met…" he trailed off. How could he explain? He had tried to bury that part of past even when he was still Anakin Skywalker. He had tried to forget everything about his upbringing on that Force-forsaken planet since the instant he left it. "I'm going to go work on the environmental controls," he said brusquely, turning and walking out of the room. Luke knew better than to call after him. After a few minutes, he drifted off to sleep.

When he woke up, he was in his room. He stared off into space for a few moments until the door opened with a hiss. He craned his neck and saw his father enter, clad in the mask and life support suit. Luke winced as he came into view. "I told you, I'm fine…"

Vader raised a hand and the breathing mask lifted itself off of Luke's face. He took a deep breath, sighing. He didn't notice the twinge of jealousy from his father. "Is that not better?" Vader asked, the weak, hoarse voice gone in favor of the familiar bass that the vocoder provided.

Luke shrugged and grimaced when he upset his broken leg, which now lay in a splint. His other leg was wrapped in bandages soaked in Bacta. "I feel bad," he told his father, deciding not to mention his mother.

"There is no reason for you to do so," Vader said immediately.

"This isn't exactly how I thought my first day would go," he admitted ruefully. "How long are we staying here?"

"Until I am needed, or the Emperor calls for me," said Vader, moving to the foot of the bed.

"We'll stay long enough that my leg will heal, right? I don't want to spend the entire time in bed," said Luke with a curl of his lip.

"It will heal quickly. In two days, it will seem as though it had not happened," Vader confirmed.

"What _were _those things? Those droids?" Luke asked. The entire experience for him was hazy after he lost the breather, but the droids he remembered well enough.

Vader crossed his arms. "They are battle droids that I use for my own personal practice. I designed them so as to keep my lightsaber skills when I was no longer with an opponent."

"Oh," said Luke, furrowing his brow. "Maybe next time you should make it so the hilts aren't attached to the arms. I tried to get one, and couldn't."

"That was the point," said Vader, and Luke recognized a note of dryness in his father's voice, distorted through the mask. "Regardless, I want you to rest. The more you sleep, the more quickly you will heal."

"I've done nothing but sleep since it happened," Luke grumbled. He brightened. "Do you have a holovid?"

"I do not waste my time with it," said Vader. "And if I did, we would receive no reception here."

Luke's expression fell. "Oh. What can I do, then?"

"Meditate or practice using the Force," said Vader. "I am going to repair the droids."

"Why?"

"Because I destroyed them with my lightsaber," said Vader. "And as they represent an investment of time on my part, I would like them fully functional. Then, perhaps, you can enact your revenge once you heal."

Luke rolled his eyes. "So I'm stuck here?"

"Yes."


	8. The Suit

_Luke held the battered woman in his arms, tears clouding his vision. "Ani," she gasped, her voice laced with pain. "I love…" _

_Unspeakable pain wrenched through Luke's breath as she slipped away. Those creatures! They had killed her, his beloved mother! He set the limp figure gently on the floor of the hut and stood, gripping his lightsaber with white-knuckled hands. THEY killed her! THEY took his mother from him!_

_Rage flowed through him as he stepped out of the hut, igniting his lightsaber and swinging it in an arc, decapitating two hooded creatures. As his arms swung the blade, Luke could only feel mild surprise. Tusken Raiders? He felt disgust roll through him as he killed a small child, and then…_

_He lay on an operating table, every square inch of his body in agony. He looked away from the blinding fluorescent light above him and caught a glimpse of his charred body—the remains of his left arm. He screamed, the pain and the horror overcoming his vocal cords that had been ravaged by the fumes. He felt himself start to slip away from lack of oxygen, and he stopped screaming to gasp and choke for breath._

_And then came a new pain. _

_They were cutting away what was left of his legs, cutting deep into the scorched flesh. Another inhuman howl tore itself from his lungs as a dark figure leaned down to whisper in what was left of his ears, "Revel in the pain, my young apprentice. Enjoy it! This is what the Jedi have done to you, their hero!"_

_It was mindless, searing agony. He gasped, "Sedative… please… master…"_

_The man laughed, a sound that Like recognized from his brief encounter with the Emperor. He recoiled, but his body didn't move because he was chained to the table, the metal cutting into his destroyed flesh. "Oh no, my lord Vader. This is an experience that I want you to remember." He felt a hand on his chest, pressing into the blackened, seared skin. Luke cried out again as his master's hand left his chest and brushed off the crumbling bits of skin that had clung to it._

_Luke screamed as he felt a sudden drilling in his thigh bones. "Master… please… please…" he begged, the sound choked and full of pain. He felt the darkness at his temples, calling him to unconsciousness, but suddenly he was jerked alert by a Dark tendril of the Force, the sensations even more clear. He screamed again, a gutteral, primal sound that made his master laugh again. Burning rage almost blinded the pain from him. Why did his master not let him die? Why did his master refuse to dull the pain?_

_"Look at your new body, my young apprentice," the sickening voice whispered into Luke's ear, and the table on which he lay began to move vertically. "You are indestructible, stronger than any foe you will come across. A perfect blend of man and machine."_

_Luke obeyed and he almost retched in revulsion. Gone were his legs, his arms—in their places were metal replacements. What was he? What kind of monster was he, a sick crime against nature, a man that was mostly droid?_

_And then he saw the suit being carried towards him by two droids. He watched, unseeingly, as he was clothed in the leather prison. As the last seal was made on the suit, he was once again lowered horizontally and he looked up as a black mask was lowered over his face. What was happening? He tried to open his mouth, but the lack of oxygen rendered him incapable of speech. What was wrong with his lungs? Why couldn't he breathe?_

_There was the hiss of seals as the mask became part of the suit and he saw his surroundings through two opaque lenses for the first time. He felt the sound of another attachment click into place and after a second more of oxygen deprivation, he felt the rush of air force past his mouth and into his lungs and then it was sucked back out with a "hush."_

_"Can you hear me, Lord Vader?"_

_"Yes, master."_

Luke's eyes flew open and without thinking he rushed to his 'fresher and threw up, the vestigial pains shooting through his body. He forgot his legs and collapsed to the floor of the room, breathing raggedly. He looked at himself in the mirror and saw his pale, sweaty reflection. With a moan he slid back to the floor. He hadn't had a dream like that since his father had told him how to stop them. What had sparked it?

And suddenly Luke was filled with rage. The Emperor! The Emperor had forced his father to live through the operations without any pain medication! It was almost as bad as what Obi-Wan did in the first place!

Why did Vader serve the Emperor? How could he, when the cursed man had made him endure that unspeakable pain? Luke shuddered and clapped a hand over his mouth to prevent himself from retching again. He remembered very clearly the pain of the Mustafar, but that had been different. On the operating table, they had been purposefully cutting away his flesh, attaching the prosthetic limbs, and he was perfectly conscious, not blinded by the pain of betrayal and fear.

How could that seemingly benevolent man that he had met on Coruscant be the same creature that had laughed as his father was in agony? That had told him to _enjoy _the pain? Luke shut his eyes, trying to forget the horrible image of the mask over his face, the forced breathing… That was what his father lived with, every single day of his life!

Slowly the pain of Luke's healing leg brought him to the present and he stood up and limped back to his bed, deciding to reach out to the Force to help him sleep dreamlessly. He sent a mind probe to his father, and found him at peace. Good. Luke didn't want his father to know that he had just lived through yet another horrible memory of his.

The next morning Luke's leg was completely healed. He took a shower—reveling in the water, as always—and dressed quickly. He left his chambers and sent a quick probe to try and find his father.

He was in the training room, so Luke swallowed his apprehensions and entered the roo,. Vader was standing at a low-slung ledge that served as a sort of table. One of the droids was dismantled upon it and Vader was carefully rewiring a circuit board. "Father?" Luke asked nervously, the memory of the room rushing back to him.

Vader turned and Luke froze, remembering the mask and the forced breathing and the pain—

He closed his eyes briefly and turned away, walking towards the droids that his father had already fixed. "Yes?" The bass echoed around the room and Luke recalled the sound from within and tried to block his mind from it.

"I was just coming to see what you were doing," Luke mumbled.

"Would you care to fence?" Vader questioned.

Luke forgot the sensations of the suit and mask for a moment and looked up, grinning. "Absolutely!"

The Sith stood and unclipped Luke's lightsaber from his belt and Luke called it over to him, enjoying the feel of the weapon in his hands. His father activated his own blade and stepped back. Luke glanced up and savagely repressed the memories of his dream. He _couldn't _let his father know that he had dreamed more of his memories—he already didn't want to share the experience of Mustafar, and Luke knew that the operating table was just as bad. He bit his lip and attempted to concentrate as Vader lunged. He blocked and swung out in a rudimentary swing that his father parried easily.

Luke caught another glimpse of the mask and faltered, and in that second, his father disarmed him. "You are not focused," Vader observed. He furrowed his brow behind the mask. His son seemed unusually jittery. Was it the close proximity to the powered down battle droids?

"Sorry," Luke mumbled, resuming his stance with the lightsaber. He didn't look at his father.

"What is the problem?" asked the Sith wearily, deactivating his own lightsaber and hooking it to his waist. He attempted to reach and test his son's mind, but he was pushed back rather forcefully. He cocked his head. "What has happened?"

"Nothing," Luke muttered. As hard as he tried, he couldn't look at his father without remembering the dream. It was not just the pain that he recalled—it was the horrible feeling of being completely isolated from his surroundings, imprisoned behind a mask. Luke shivered despite himself.

"Do not insult me by lying," Vader said stiffly. "Tell me what is the problem."

"I don't have to tell you everything!" Luke burst out, his words echoing throughout the chamber. He hung his head. "I'm sorry."

Vader was surprised. What could have happened to his son? He had had no contact with anyone except himself and the few droids. Even after his accident, he had not acted this way. "Do not make me interrogate you, my son."

"It's nothing!" Luke protested. "Just leave me alone. Let's have another go, all right?" He ignited his lightsaber and waited for Vader to do the same. Behind his mask, Vader raised an eyebrow and lifted his hand, calling the weapon to his palm. Luke scowled and then looked away, as though he couldn't stand the sight of his father.

Was that it? Had Luke been so disgusted by his appearance that he could not longer look at him, despite the mask? But that didn't make sense, Vader realized, because the boy had said himself that it hadn't been as bad as he had thought it would be. Then what was the problem? He reached forward a second time, and found a chink in his son's shields. He dipped inside, and then recoiled at what he saw.

The operating table.

The pain.

Palpatine, standing at his ear, whispering to him to revel in the pain, to crave it…

"_Look at your new body, my young apprentice."_

How could he have found out? How did his son know of those things? He swayed on his feet slightly, unaware of his surroundings, until he felt Luke rush to him. "Father, sit down!" Luke cried out, obviously concerned for him. He stumbled back and leaned against the mirror that was the wall.

"Luke…" he began, his mind racing. "How…?"

"I'm sorry," Luke said, his eyes filling with tears. "I had a dream, like the one of Mustafar."

Vader flinched. One bad memory was quite enough, thank you. "How long have you been having these dreams?" he said after he found his voice.

"It was the first one since you showed me how to stop them," Luke mumbled as he wiped his eyes, acutely embarrassed. "I'm sorry. I didn't want to tell you, it's just…" He looked up. "I _know _how it feels."

"How what feels, exactly?" Vader asked, slightly confused.

Luke flushed. "The suit. The mask. Everything."

Vader froze. "I am accustomed to it," he said finally. He reached out and touched a hand to Luke's chin. The boy looked up. "Don't think about it," he said. "Try and forget."

He nodded and then released a sigh. "I'm sorry for not telling you."

"It is of no account."

Luke grinned wryly, a pathetic imitation of his normal one. "Of course it isn't." His expression darkened, and Vader caught a hint of his thoughts, of his begging for relief from the pain. He flinched again. "Why didn't he…?"

"I don't know," said Vader abruptly. "I suppose he was trying to make me stronger."

Luke's lip curled in disgust, and Vader felt a wave of anger flow off of him. He opened his mouth to say something, but Vader placed a black-gloved finger over it. "Get some food," he commanded. "And relax. We will resume this when you are ready."

Luke considered objecting but thought better of it. He nodded and turned to leave. "Father," he said slowly. "I am sorry."

Vader tensed. "Thank you," he managed finally. With a nod, Luke disappeared into the corridor, and Vader was left to his own thoughts, which strayed towards a question that he had never ceased to ask.

Why? Why had Palpatine done that? He knew now that more could have been done to heal him, or at least he suspected it was so, but what reason did his master have to prevent his apprentice from regaining full capacity strength?

Probably because all he would have to do is threaten a little spark of Force-lightning, and you wouldn't think twice about anything, a small voice in the back of Vader's mind whispered. Can't very well protest when a little shock will completely destroy everything that keeps you alive.

Vader clenched his fists, the voice in the back of his head whispering _monster_. Palpatine deserved to die.

The thought didn't belong to Darth Vader. It belonged to a voice that he had silenced, long ago, and Vader shuddered. That thought had no place in his head, he said firmly. Gritting his teeth, he ignited his saber and stalked towards the repaired droids, activating them with a touch of the Force.

Luke went to the meditation room after he had done as what Vader had told him and found that the room was unlike any he had seen in his life. It was a far cry from the stark, uniform surroundings of the _Executor _and from the black, minimalist route that his father took. The walls were expertly painted to depict a beautiful planet that reminded Luke of Alderaan somewhat. The difference was the enormous mountains and the wild way the flowers grew, rather than the ordered gardens of Alderaan.

The beauty of the place took his breath away. Not only had Luke never seen so many plants, but the painting was so realistic that Luke imagined that he could almost feel the warmth of the sun on his back. After a few minutes, he cleared his head. This was not something that he had expected from his father, to be sure. What planet was this place, anyway? Why did his father use it as the meditation room?

Luke examined it closer and found he vaguely remembered a section of valley by an enormous lake. He pored his memory for it and then, with a jolt, remembered the first time that his father had ever entered his dream. He grinned. He would have to ask just where this place was.

After a few moments, he sat down on one the peculiar meditation platforms and opened himself to the Force. However, instead of the normal calm, Luke seemed to fade into a vision. He saw himself sitting at a table across from an old man that he felt he should recognize. The old man handed him a lightsaber, saying, "This was your father's weapon, Luke. This was his most prized possession." The man looked at his hands as Luke felt himself speak. "Do not take your father's path, Luke. It is only a road to despair and slavery. You alone can defeat the darkness. You must search for the Light."

Luke opened his eyes and checked the chronometer on his wrist. His eyes widened. He had been meditating in that strange dream for three standard hours! He sat up and stretched. What had he seen? Was it a vision of the future? He groaned. First visions of the past in his dreams, now the future when he was awake. The Force was obviously trying to tell him something.

He sighed. There was nothing that he could do about it now. He jumped as the door to the meditation room slid open and his father walked inside. "Are you sufficiently relaxed, my son?" he inquired.

Luke nodded and turned to the fantastic mural that was the walls. "Where is this place?" he inquired eagerly, standing up.

His father stiffened almost imperceptibly. "Naboo," he said shortly.

"My mother's homeworld?"

"Yes."

"Wow. It's more beautiful than Alderaan," said Luke, peering in to take note of the detail. "Who painted it?"

"I don't recall," said Vader. In reality, he had made sure that the painter had suffered an accidental death upon his return journey. He hadn't wanted anyone to find out about the Dark Lord of the Sith's love for Padmé's world. It would be viewed as a strange weakness and window to his past that Vader wanted to remain shut forever.

"Oh," said Luke. He turned to his father. "I'm sorry about…"

"Do not worry yourself. It was a perfectly natural reaction," Vader interrupted him. He cringed inwardly. How many times had he stood in front of the mirror in disbelief that the leather-clad, masked giant was himself? It had taken him years to accept it, to grow used to the respirator and the weight of his body. He almost snorted in derision. His master had called it a 'perfect blend,' which was a ridiculous statement. It was only because he had the Force that he was able to move at all—over the years, his remaining flesh had grown extremely strong simply through walking and lifting the prosthetics. Even now, when he visited a planet with particularly high gravity, it was extraordinarily difficult to maintain his normal speed and stride. A perfect blend? His master had certainly never attempted to walk on legs that weighed eighty pounds apiece while carrying arms that were forty and thirty-five pounds respectively.

Luke waited for a second and then nodded. He turned and left the room, leaving his father standing in the place that he had created for Padmé. Naboo. He remembered so clearly that blissful time that he had spent with her there. The wind through his hair, the feel of the soft earth beneath his feet… The light touch of the grasses against his hands. The feel of her skin against his. He shut his eyes. He would never feel any of that again. She was dead, like his body was dead, barely kept alive in a disgusting twist of nature.

Obi-Wan Kenobi.

The name was enough to light the smoldering fire that always lay in his breast. He had taken everything from him—he had taken his wife, his child, his body. Vader looked in disgust at himself and strode out of the room. He didn't belong in there among Naboo anymore than death itself.

Soon Luke and his father eased into a comfortable routine. After the turbulent first days, their vacation of sorts actually became relaxing. They met every morning in the training room and would spend the afternoon working on the finer points of the Force mastery. Then, Vader would retreat to his rooms, where he would get a chance to remove the armor and mask, and Luke would go back to his own room.

Soon three standard weeks passed and one morning Vader announced to Luke that they would be leaving Bain soon to return to the _Executor_. Apparently, various reports showed that the Hutts on Tatooine had been using smugglers to send various goods to worlds that were reportedly anti-Imperial. The Emperor had contacted Vader and told him to go there and take care of it himself, despite the fact that both the Sith and his son hated the planet with a passion.

"Why did he want you to go?" Luke asked as he helped his father repair one of the droids. His fingers were much more nimble than his father's, so Vader had allowed him to do the more delicate work rather than entrusting it to another droid. "There are plenty of star destroyers that are near there, right? Isn't there two on the next system?"

"Yes," said Vader as he carefully welded two pieces together. "But apparently the presence of myself and my ship would create more loose tongues than an ordinary ship."

"I don't want to leave," said Luke suddenly. "I like it here."

"It is not likely that we will return soon," said Vader, slightly amused. "The last time that I visited was over a standard year ago."

"But now that you have me we can come back more often, right?" Luke asked hopefully as he handed a number 2 hydrospanner to his father, who accepted it without a word.

"I doubt it. My duties remain the same regardless of my progeny," said Vader, and Luke rolled his eyes.

"Did you know that it's my birthday a week from today?" Luke asked excitedly. "I'm going to be fourteen."

"Is fourteen any less inquisitive than thirteen?" Vader questioned wryly. "If not, I don't think it matters."

"But I'll be a year older," said Luke. "When can I fly in battles?"

"Why the sudden urge to get yourself killed?" Vader retorted. "I haven't seen you fly enough to trust you."

"But if I got a TIE fighter like yours, one with shields, I'd be safer, right?" Luke persisted. "And plus, don't you remember Kessel? I can totally handle a battle."

"As soon as the roots of this Rebellion are destroyed, there shall be no need for you to pilot," said Vader. "And I intend to crush this Mon Mothma myself."

"I heard that Leia won as Senator," said Luke, the name reminding him of a report that he had read back on the _Executor_.

"Who?"

"Princess Leia Organa," said Luke. "Don't you remember?"

"Of course. I was not aware that you were on first-name basis with her," said Vader, sounding amused. "If that is the case, she is heading towards the same demise as her father. I doubt that her allegiances will have changed since Organa's death."

"Maybe if you hadn't killed him"—Luke began hotly, but stopped when his father raised a hand.

"Do not criticize my judgment," said Vader darkly. "I will not tolerate it."

"I wasn't criticizing you, per se," said Luke. "But"—

"That's enough."

Luke glared at the control panel he was modifying. "Fine," he said at last, the tension palpable between them.

Vader groaned mentally. The boy had a way of making him feel guilty just through his body language. "I have told you before, my son, that I do not idly kill people. Organa was a Rebel, and he was helping their cause tremendously under the guise of Alderaani pacifism. Other worlds were beginning to follow in his footsteps. I did what was necessary."

"I understand, it's just…" Luke trailed off. "Couldn't you have sent him to prison instead? I mean… It's like he's a martyr now."

"There is no time for trials," said Vader. "And the information incriminating him was classified. So, you see, my son, that there was no other option."

Luke said nothing for a few moments. "Is this one done?" he asked finally, lifting up the control panel.

Luke was grateful when they returned to Coruscant that he did not have to see the Emperor. After what he had learned about the Sith's treatment of his father, he wasn't sure if he could be as subservient as a meeting would require. The mere memory of the dream was enough to make him want to murder the man with his bare hands. They stopped in the gigantic city only to drop off the ship that they had used to get to Bain, which was Vader's personal property.

They had taken a shuttle to the _Executor_, where Vader had immediately left to be informed of the goings-on since he had gone to Bain, and Luke was left to his own devices. Things had gone back to normal.

"You are distracted tonight," Vader observed as he disarmed his son of his lightsaber as they trained a week after their return from Bain.

"Just tired," Luke muttered, calling his weapon to his hand easily. That was one element of the Force that he had completely grasped—he barely had to concentrate any more.

Vader extinguished his own blade. "What is the problem?"

Luke sighed, knowing it was pointless to evade the truth after his dream. "We're orbiting Tatooine."

"As commander of the ship, I was aware of that," said Vader, somewhat wryly. "That is the reason we left Bain, if you recall."

"I don't know why it bothers me," said Luke, looking at the floor. "It just does."

Vader felt a twinge of guilt that he brushed away quickly. He said nothing for a few moments. "Tomorrow you will become to construct your lightsaber," he said finally, noting the way Luke's eyes lit up. "For your birthday."

"Really?" Luke asked excitedly.

"Yes," said Vader, hoping that the change of pace would do some good for his son. "We are done for now. Dismissed."

Luke was distracted still when he returned to his room. Over the time that he had spent there, he had personalized it somewhat. He had taken his father's suggestions about the mouse droid, but hadn't had a reason to use it, considering that he could speak to his father telepathically. The lack of communication with people besides his father frustrated him. He sighed and changed his sweatsoaked clothes, wishing that he already had built his lightsaber so that he could hook it to his belt.

He ran his hands through his hair—which had grown uncomfortably long—and decided to go to the mess hall. He left his room, his presence creating a wide berth around him. Since the Kessel incident, any remaining doubters as to his identity had been converted. However, every single crewmember on the ship had been forbidden to tell anyone not on the ship of Luke's existence.

Many people regarded Luke with almost the same fear and apprehension as they did his father, which pleased him on a perverse level but disgusted him on the next. He felt as though he was completely isolated, despite the fact that he lived on a ship with thousands of sentient beings.

Once he entered the mess hall, he spotted a few boys around his age wearing Pilot trainee uniforms and walked over there, hoping that his former squad was on duty.

"Hey! Skywalker!"

He whipped around to see Jisk grinning from ear to ear. They were the only ones on the entire ship to treat him normally. "Hey," he said, pleased for interaction. He considered it a welcome change from meditation.

"Descending from on high to see the commoners?" Darmic joked, moving over so that Luke could sit down.

"Something like that," said Luke with his first smile in since Bain. Once they had returned to the _Executor_, the closeness he had felt with his father had somewhat lessened because of Vader's duties. For Luke, it was the same monotony every day.

"We never see you anymore, Skywalker," said Vaskall quietly. "How are you?"

"Fine," said Luke. "Busy."

"Hey, I forgot to ask you," said Darmic as he swallowed some water down with his food, "What did that princess look like?"

Luke raised his eyebrows. "Senator Organa?"

"Yeah, her," Darmic confirmed with a grin.

"She's out of your league," said Luke with a laugh.

"How is your training?" Lang asked, speaking for the first time.

Luke looked over sharply. It was definitely not his business. "Fine," he said shortly, just as a black-haired boy sat across from him at the end of the table.

"Back from father/son bonding?"

Luke looked up to see Dase smirking at the fresh burn on his neck. He hardly noticed anymore. The few times he had come down to eat with the boys Dase hadn't been present—this was the first time he had seen him since before Kessel.

"My father almost got killed because of you," Dase snarled, angry that Luke had said nothing. The chatter stopped around them as the other boys gaped at Dase for daring to speak that way to Luke. "Because of that stupid prank you pulled with the shuttle."

"Your father almost got killed because he was an idiot," said Luke calmly, his dislike of the boy rising up.

"He got demoted, too!" Dase said angrily. "And it's your fault!"

Luke looked at him coolly. "Sit down or go away."

"What are you going to do?" Dase spat, standing up. With a sigh, Luke stood up as well, wishing that the boy would just leave. "Are you going to cut off my hand? Or is that something only families do?" Dase asked, clearly attempting to provoke Luke who had thus far been unresponsive.

Luke's eyes blazed. So the boy's father had told him that little detail. "Shut your mouth," he spat, both his hands clenching.

The talk quieted all throughout the mess hall.

"Are you going to go tell big, bad Vader on me, Skywalker?" Dase asked, grinning at the response he had gotten from the boy. "Are you going to run to the cyborg?"

The buried memories of the night on Tatooine—already close to the surface—rushed back to Luke. He narrowed his eyes. "Leave."

"You can't tell me what to do," Dase spat. "I'm not scared of you. If your father can't even protect himself enough to stay off a respirator for the rest of his life, I don't see how his son's a huge threat."

It didn't matter that Dase was just saying big words.

It didn't matter that Dase was inconsequential.

It didn't matter that Dase had no idea what he was talking about.

Luke lost his control. How dare he talk about his father? He certainly hadn't lived through the fire, through the operating table! He had no idea what it was like to view the world from behind a mask, encased in a suit that prohibited any human contact whatsoever! His anger and rage boiled up stronger than he had ever felt it before. He felt the Force surge through him, the power course through his fingers, blind him. The sheer power exhilarated him, he felt as though he was capable of anything—

And then there was nothing.

It was completely silent in the mess hall.

Luke looked down and his anger melted away and thought he was going to be sick.

Dase lay sprawled on the floor, blue from lack of oxygen and very, very dead.

Dead.

Panic overtook him and he sprinted away, as far away from the body as he could go. He raced down halls and corridors, glad that everyone avoided him.

And they had good cause.

Someone had died because of him.

No, he had _killed_ someone.

And Dase wasn't even a threat to him! He wasn't a Jedi, or a Rebel, or a criminal! He wasn't anything to Luke! He was worse than Vader—Vader killed when necessary, not over petty name-calling!

But Luke had killed someone, just for provoking his anger.

He had KILLED him.

Luke was nauseated. He found himself in the main hangar, which was almost completely abandoned. He threw up his mental shields, not wanting anything to do with his father or the Force. He stood there, breathing heavily for a few moments, trying to comprehend his actions.

Dase was not Bail Organa, and Luke had hated that his father had killed him.

Dase was not Mon Mothma, whom his father had pledged to kill.

Dase was not Obi-Wan Kenobi, the man who had destroyed his father's life.

Dase was just a pilot trainee. Annoying, certainly, but had he deserved to die because of it?

Not knowing quite what he was doing, Luke climbed into a TIE fighter and readied it for takeoff as if in a daze. All he knew was that he had to get as far away from the _Executor_ as possible. The irony was not lost on him. The Executor. _He _was the executor.

"Skywalker, wait!"

Luke turned to see Lang running towards him, face pale. "Skywalker, what do you think you're doing?" Lang asked, panting.

"I'm going home," Luke said, trying desperately to keep tears of shame spilling down his cheeks.

"Listen, Skywalker, you can't just leave!"

"Yes, I can," Luke mumbled, flipping switches and checking the fuel gauge. He looked up. "Go away, Captain," he said, using some of the Force to make Lang leave.

It didn't matter that he was right over the last place he wanted to be—Tatooine. Nothing mattered. All that did was the fact that he was now a murderer. A _murderer. _

Luke used the Force to open the hatch, not knowing how he found the focus and the power to perform such a huge task. Once it was open, his ship zoomed out of the hangar, Luke controlling it almost without thinking.

He didn't want to be a Sith. He didn't want to build a lightsaber. He didn't want to be a fighter pilot. All he wanted was to return to his Uncle Owen and Aunt Beru, to stay on Tatooine if he had to.

But they were dead. Vader killed them. Luke he had killed Dase, out of anger.

Luke shuddered. The Jedi were evil, but weren't the Sith evil, too, if they killed people? Was there no good? Was there only evil?

Despite the small size of his ship, Luke piloted it into the atmosphere of the dry planet. He used the ship's positioning system to locate Anchorhead and powered his thrusters, moving towards the small town as quickly as he was able.

The former General Bixel Dase was _furious_.

His son was dead, killed by Darth Vader's supposed offspring. He doubted that the man was human, much less capable of procreating.

"See to it that Skywalker is found," he told his aide, his voice shaking with anger.

"Yes, Captain," said the man, and the holo vanished. The man stared at his desk blankly. How dare that boy kill his son? One of the eye-witnesses had said that his son had provoked him, but what could the boy have said to make murder justified?

He curled his lip. The apple doesn't fall far from the tree, apparently. He clenched his fists just as Vader stepped inside his office.

Dase's high ideas of telling Vader off evaporated very, very quickly.

"Captain Dase," Vader said darkly, using the Force to make the man more terrified than he'd ever been in his life. "I trust that you have learned of the situation."

"My lord," the man began. "I apologize for any agitation"—

"My son is missing." Vader was furious. He had felt the disturbance of the Force, the bright burst of power, and had touched upon his son's horror and self-loathing until the boy had thrown up desperate shields. Now, even he could not find him.

"And mine is dead," said Dase, his indignation overcoming his fear for a brief second.

Vader lifted a hand, using the Force to push the man into the air. "Are you implying that your boy was not to blame?" he said dangerously. "I have tolerated your presence on my ship long enough," he said finally. "And the antics of your progeny have, quite truthfully, annoyed me. As have yours."

"My lord, please," said Dase, aware that his outburst may have just cost him his life, "I apologize for my rudeness, I am under emotional duress"—His eyes suddenly bulged and he clawed at his throat. He gasped out, "Please, Lord Vader"—

A second later his body dropped to the floor. Vader stared at it for a few moments, hands clenched, before storming out of the room.

His son would be found. If necessary, every man on the ship would look for him.


	9. Han Solo

Getting clearance to land in Anchorhead was surprisingly easy. Luke supposed that the Imperial TIE fighter and the presence of the largest, most powerful ship in the Imperial Fleet meant that there were very few people who would dare to deny a port. Luke climbed out of the ship and surveyed the primitive spaceport. His time on the _Executor _had gotten him quite accustomed to the best technology in the Empire.

He glanced at his surroundings. His father would most certainly be looking for him, and if he wanted to stay hidden, he would need to find passage off Tatooine. It didn't matter where he went, only that this was not the place to be. He looked around him, and saw a beat-up Corellian freighter with a man apparently arguing with a giant creature that Luke immediately recognized as a wookiee. The man wore casual garments, so Luke assumed that he was self-employed. He walked over, hoping to barter passage.

"Hey, kid, what're you starin' at?" The man snapped, taking in Luke's strange appearance—after all, someone who wore all black on a desert world was a bit of an oddity.

"I need passage off Tatooine," said Luke. If this man was as illegitimate as he seemed, then there would be much fewer questions asked.

"You jus' got here," said the man, indicating the shuttle. "And I did, too. You think I'm crazy enough to pick up some kid who stole an Imp ship?"

Luke fell silent. "How long will you be on Tatooine?"

"Not long, hopefully," said the man with another easy grin.

"I will pay you for passage to whatever planet you're going to," said Luke, hoping that he would accept.

The man snorted. "You think I'm gonna buy that, kid? How old are you, ten? I'm sure tons of kids have thousands of credits to their name!" Luke's eyes flashed with anger and the man seemed to notice. "Calm down, kid," said the man quickly. "I didn't to mess with you. I jus' can't take you is all."

Luke used a subtle mind probe to confirm that the man was a smuggler, as he thought. "How much do you think a TIE fighter will go for, then?"

The man paled. "You're sellin' it?"

"If you'll give me passage."

The man grinned. "I got someone you can sell it to, kid," he said. "I'm Han. Han Solo. This is my first mate, Chewie."

He motioned towards the enormous wookiee. "Come with us, kid," he said with another friendly smile.

"I have to go somewhere, first," said Luke. Han noticed the first sign that the kid was younger than he acted. The shadow of pain crossed his face, and Han noticed for the first time the strange, raw burn on the boy's neck.

"Hey, kid, what happened to your neck?" he asked him. It certainly didn't look like he got grazed with blaster fire.

Luke tensed. "Nothing," he said tensely. An image of Dase's body flashed in his mind and he beat it down savagely. It was not the time to reflect on his actions.

Han held out his hands in the universal symbol for peace. "Calm down. Where do you gotta go?"

"A farm near here," said Luke quietly. "It won't take long."

Han grinned. "No problem," he said. "Let's go."

Every single man and droid on the _Executor_ knew very clearly that Darth Vader was not happy.

Vader had ruthlessly murdered two men who had given less than clear accounts of what had happened in the mess hall, and had then chopped ten droids to pieces with his lightsaber.

The Sith mentally sighed. Luke was not on the ship. The ship's scanners picked up no sign of him, and the ship's occupants had not found anything peculiar.

So, he was not on the ship. That meant he was on Tatooine, or on a suicide flight through space, unequipped with a hyperdrive. He wouldn't be that stupid, would he? TIE fighters didn't even have rations on board.

The question was, why had Luke been provoked enough to kill someone? Vader couldn't imagine a reason other than annoyance. Had he even realized he was killing the boy? Accounts told him that the Dase boy had dropped to the floor and Luke came to his senses, stared at the body, and ran away. One of the stormtroopers said that he had seen another boy run after him, but no one else had confirmed it.

There was no point searching space or Tatooine until Vader knew for sure where Luke was. It was time to find this boy, the one who had run after his son.

"This is it?" Han asked, raising his eyebrows at the remains of the farm where Luke had grown up. They jumped out of the rented speeders and Luke walked around, clearly subdued. "What's your problem, kid?" Han asked, stuffing his hands in the pockets of his trousers.

"He killed them here," Luke mumbled, falling to his knees on the dusty ground. "

"Who killed who?" Han asked, confused. "Why'd you want to come here, anyway?"

Luke didn't respond. "Listen, kid… We've gotta negotiate for the TIE, okay? Let's get outta here. This place is depressin.'"

Luke nodded slowly, still entranced. Raising his brow, Han got back in his speeder. "Listen, head back to the spaceport when you're ready, okay? I'll be there." With that, he turned his speeder around and zoomed away, leaving Luke in a cloud of dust.

Luke wasn't sure how long he sat at the place where Beru had fallen. When a shadow fell over him, though, he looked up to see a man he'd only seen once or twice in his life. "Crazy Ben?" he asked, surprised. "What are you doing here?"

The older man lifted Luke to his feet. "The question is, what are you doing here, Luke?"

Old Ben.

Crazy old Ben.

Crazy old Ben _Kenobi_.

Luke went very pale, and then anger filled him. "You," he hissed, stumbling back across the ground. "You're Obi-Wan!"

The man seemed to be sad. "Yes, Luke. I am."

"How dare you touch me? I know what you did!" Luke screamed, forgetting about his actions in the mess hall and the pain of Tatooine and remembering the dreams, the horrible dreams. _"You were my brother, Anakin! I loved you!"_

Luke tripped over a rock and fell to the ground. Despite himself, he felt tears start to fall down his cheeks. "Do you know what you did to him? I hate you! You deserve to die!"

"Luke, listen to me," said Obi-Wan softly. "Your father is corrupted by the Dark Side. The Emperor has made him a Sith, and thus made him evil."

"The Jedi are evil!" Luke shouted. "You're evil!"

_"From my point of view, the Jedi are evil!"_

Obi-Wan sighed. "I made mistakes, Luke. We all have."

"How can you look at me? How can you look at me here and talk to me?" Luke cried out, his anger almost forgotten in place of pain. "If I had my lightsaber I'd kill you!"

"Luke, if the Emperor ordered it, your father would kill you," said Obi-Wan. "He is a slave to the Emperor, Luke."

"No! You're lying! My father wouldn't kill me, he told me so!" Luke said, the events of the day weighing him down. "You're a liar, and you betrayed him, like the rest of the Jedi! If he's corrupted, it's your fault!"

"Luke… You cannot let the Dark Side take you over like it has your father," said Obi-Wan gently.

"What are you talking about?" Luke asked, tears still streaming from his face. For an instant he remembered the power he had felt as he had choked the life from Dase's body… He shivered and focused on his father's mortal enemy in front of him.

"The Sith use the Dark Side of the Force, Luke. The Jedi use the Light Side," Obi-Wan explained. "The Dark Side is powerful, yes, but it warps those who use it. It can take the most noble of men and turn them into Darth Vader."

"What about you? You left him to die! You left him to burn alive!" Luke shouted. "Nobody would do that to someone! Nobody who claims to be good, at least!"

Obi-Wan looked truly sorrowful. "No one has ever returned from the Dark Side, Luke. I should have killed him that day, but I could not… My love for him was what stayed my hand." He laughed bitterly. "So, in a way, you are right. It is my fault that Vader walks this earth. I drove him from the Jedi, and I let him live."

"He was a Jedi?" asked Luke suddenly, despite himself.

Obi-Wan looked past Luke to the desert. "Yes," he said slowly. "Anakin Skywalker was a hero. He was the Chosen One, the man prophesied to destroy the Sith."

_"You were the Chosen One, Anakin! You were supposed to destroy the Sith, not join him!"_

Luke tried to absorb this information. He calmed himself enough to ask questions. "Then… Why did he become one?"

He again saw a flash of helpless pain in Obi-Wan's eyes. "He thought that the only way he could save your mother's life was to join Palpatine. Palpatine convinced him that it was his only option." Obi-Wan observed the newly subdued boy before him. "Come with me, Luke. I must speak to you."

"No!" Luke shouted, standing up quickly. "Maybe my father was a Jedi, maybe he wasn't. But if a Jedi left him to burn alive, I don't want anything to do with them."

"I regret that day more than any other in my lifetime, Luke," said Obi-Wan softly. "I am sorry for what happened. I cannot change the past, I can only use it to better my actions for the present and the future."

"Shut up! You don't know what he has to live through every single day!" Luke said angrily. "You pretend to understand what you did to him, but you have no idea. _I _know. _I _know what he has to do every day just to stay alive!"

Obi-Wan bowed his head. "I have made many mistakes, Luke. One of them was in thinking that I could train your father. Another was in not keeping close enough watch on you. Do not make the mistake, Luke, of thinking that the Dark Side is your only option. It was the Dark Side that made you kill that boy today. Do not let conquer you."

Luke paled. "How do you know about that?" he whispered, trying desperately to keep his actions in the back of his mind.

Obi-Wan sighed. "The image projects itself from your mind, Luke. But you _must _fight the Dark Side. You must not let it overcome you."

"But what side is good, then?" he asked softly, subdued.

"It is the Light Side of the Force that does good, Luke," said Obi-Wan, sensing that he had made an impression on the boy. "Renounce the Dark Side. It will only bring death and destruction. The Light Side brings serenity and peace. Come with me, Luke."

Slowly, as though he was still processing what the old man told him, Luke stood, and Obi-Wan rested his hand on the boy's shoulder. "The Dark Side's hold on you is not strong, Luke," said Obi-Wan gently. "Don't fear."

Luke jerked away from Obi-Wan's hand. "Don't touch me," he spat.

"Release your anger into the Force, Luke," said Obi-Wan. "You cannot seek revenge. Your hatred for me, for what happened to your father, is what made you kill. Forgive me."

"I can't," Luke whispered, staring up at the man. "You don't understand. I _can't_."

"Why not?"

Luke's eyes flashed. "I know exactly what happened. I _lived _it."

Obi-Wan felt the prickle of unease. "What do you mean?"

Luke shuddered as if caught in some long-ago memory. "I dreamt it," he said shortly, glancing up to the Jedi.

Obi-Wan froze and attempted to collect himself. No wonder the boy hated him as much as his father did! It was this same hatred on Vader's part that kept him a slave to the Dark. If Luke was suspect to the same… "Luke, listen to me," he said urgently. He turned towards the boy. "I _am _sorry for what happened. But that does not change that it did. Your anger over it does not change it. Revenge will not change it, will not heal him. If you want to save your father from his hate, you must become a Jedi. That is the only way. But first, you must release your own anger. You must achieve calm."

Luke stared at him. "How?"

"Come with me, Luke," said Obi-Wan gently. "I'll show you."

Luke looked at the Jedi Master a long time. Finally, he nodded slowly. "Okay."

Vader surveyed the boy with interest. He was not nearly as afraid of him as normal people were. He was scared, of course, but he was composed, much like his transmissions from the Kessel incident had indicated. He had a good head—Vader would welcome his presence as a fighter pilot. "You are Cadet Captain Lang, correct?"

"Yes, my lord," said the boy, standing with his legs set slightly apart and his hands behind his back.

"Tell me what happened in the mess hall." Vader didn't need to ask, of course, but he wondered what the boy's interpretation of the event was.

"Cadet Dase attempted to provoke him," said Lang. "He tried several times, making references to Skywalker's prosthetic hand. He failed to get a substantial reaction from Skywalker, so he turned his attack on something else."

Vader winced almost imperceptibly. So Dase had found out about Luke's hand. He didn't notice Lang shrewd eyes on his body posture. "And what was the new subject of his attention?"

"You, my lord," said Lang, showing the first sign of discomfort.

Vader was slightly surprised. His son had been provoked over his father? "And in what way did he attack me?"

Lang clearly didn't want to say. "My lord… I don't know if that is important…"

"Cadet Captain Lang, I will decide what is important and what is not," said Vader immediately, inserting a tone that he knew would strike fear into the boy.

The boy sighed and looked at the floor. "If I recall correctly, Cadet Dase indicated that he had nothing to fear from Skywalker if his father could not manage to keep himself off of a respirator."

"I see," said Vader, more than a little surprised. Luke had killed a boy in defense of his father? This was an interesting development. "And what happened then?"

"Skywalker Force-choked Dase. He didn't seem to realize what he was doing, however, until after he was dead. He looked at the body and ran away. I followed him to the main hangar, where he was preparing a TIE for flight. I asked him what he was doing and he told me that he was going home. He then used the Force to make me leave."

Vader sighed to himself. So he was on Tatooine. Why? The boy had told Vader himself that he disliked the planet. At least he wasn't trying to fly through space in a snub fighter, but leaving for Tatooine showed that his actions had scared him. Vader hadn't meant for the boy to progress this rapidly. If he could already kill people in the manner that his father preferred, then the Emperor would find him dangerous indeed.

This was another reason to be grateful that the Emperor seemed to have accepted Luke's supposed weakness. If they returned to Coruscant and Palpatine learned of Luke's true potential… Vader suppressed a shudder.

He turned to the lieutenant at his side. "Prepare my shuttle," he told the man. "I am going to Tatooine."

Luke sat silently in the humble house that belonged to Obi-Wan Kenobi. "The Anakin I knew would have wanted you to have this, Luke," said Obi-Wan, handing the lightsaber that his Padawan of old had made. "He loved this weapon."

Luke accepted the metal cylinder, marveling at the workmanship the maker had obviously had with mechanics. "You took it from him," he said slowly. "On Mustafar."

Obi-Wan winced. "It was the worst night of my life," he murmured to the boy, who looked at him, eyes dull. "I loved Anakin."

"Like a brother," Luke finished, his eyes still on the weapon. "He told me the Jedi tried to take over the Galaxy. He told me that the Jedi had betrayed him."

"No, we did not," said Obi-Wan heavily, moving and sitting across from Luke on the table. "But… in a way, we did betray him."

"What do you mean?" Luke asked, tearing his eyes away from the lightsaber and looking back at Obi-Wan, whose face he remembered so clearly, albeit he remembered the man thirteen years younger.

"We asked Anakin to spy on Chancellor Palpatine," said Obi-Wan. "Palpatine found out and used that to help sway Anakin to the Dark Side by convincing him that the Council did not trust him."

Anguish came over Luke as he remembered the body at his feet, the lifeless eyes of the boy that he had killed… That was the Dark Side. "What if I'm already too deep in the Dark Side to get out?" Luke asked quietly.

"Luke, you can overcome it!" said Obi-Wan quickly. "Forgive those who wrong you and control your anger! Do not let fear, guilt, and pain rule your actions!"

Luke stared at Obi-Wan for a few moments. "My father used the Light side the night after my first dream"—He stopped himself.

Obi-Wan winced as he remembered the failure. "I…" he didn't have any words to say.

Luke ignored him. "But… that night, he calmed me down," he said. "It was peaceful. He told me that I could do it through meditation, but it never felt like that."

Obi-Wan felt a faint spark of hope. He tucked it away quickly, as though it would shrivel if he spent too much time thinking about it. He swallowed. "That was the Light Side."

The boy looked at his gloved right hand, and Obi-Wan remembered with a sickening jolt the hand that he had found clutching the Padawan's lightsaber. "Then if I can return, can't he?"

Obi-Wan didn't know what to say. "Luke… I fear that he has delved so deep that it is impossible. He cannot let go of his anger and hate, and thus he cannot escape the Dark Side.""I don't accept that," said Luke firmly. "He can come back. I can bring him back."

"Luke… it is pointless," said Obi-Wan sorrowfully. "He is more machine now than man, twisted and evil."

"Only because you made him that way!" Luke shouted suddenly, and then hung his head, trying to calm himself. Obi-Wan ignored the barb of guilt that wormed its way into his stomach. "He can still come back," Luke persisted. "You don't know him."

"I knew Anakin. He was very stubborn," Obi-Wan reminded the boy. "There is no return from the Dark Side."

"Then how can I come back?" Luke countered.

Obi-Wan hung his head. "You must, because you are our only hope," he said quietly. "We have no choice but hope."

They sat in silence for a while until Obi-Wan said finally, "You need to get off this planet. You need to escape your father and the Emperor."

"Why?"

Obi-Wan shut his eyes in frustration. How like Anakin Luke was, he thought to himself for a moment. Incessant questioning. "Your father is here, Luke. You must not let yourself be caught. You will become a Sith like he is."

Luke swallowed. "Then where do I go?"

Obi-Wan started, feeling for a moment that he was back with Anakin, that he was reprimanding him for a foolish trick… He heaved a sigh. "You will know when it is time," he said. "Good luck, Luke. I only wish that I could help you."

"That's it? You're just going to tell me to abandon my father?" Luke asked, furrowing his brow. "He's my only family. I can't leave him."

"You must," Obi-Wan urged. "You don't understand, Luke."

"What if I try to turn him?" Luke suggested. "Then he could leave the Emperor!"

"He is bound to Palpatine, Luke," said Obi-Wan. "The bond between Master and Apprentice is one almost impossible to break."

"Then how did it break between you and him?" Luke asked shrewdly.

Obi-Wan bowed his head. "They are mistakes of the past," he said. "Focus on the present. Find passage off of Tatooine, Luke. You must go."

Luke seemed resigned to what the Jedi Master said. "I will," he said finally. He stood, and clipped his father's old lightsaber to his belt.

"May the Force be with you, child," said Obi-Wan as the boy climbed onto the landspeeder and left him in a cloud of dust. He hung his head, the guilt and sorrow overwhelming him for a brief instant before he reached for the Force to calm himself.

Vader could not feel his son's presence on Tatooine as his shuttle drew nearer to it. Of course, the shields that he taught his son to create were hiding him. The irony caused Vader to clench his fists. Luke certainly did not want to be found.

Suddenly, he felt a flicker of the force, one that was familiar. In surprise, Vader nearly let go of the controls. _Obi-Wan._ That his former Master was on this planet infuriated Vader. So he _had _hidden Luke from him and stayed here in hiding, knowing that he could not defeat the Dark Lord of the Sith. Gunning the ship, he flew towards the flicker. Luke was not getting off the planet in a TIE fighter, he reasoned. The time to seek revenge had come.

"She's in prime condition," Han told Jabba's cronies as they inspected the fighter. "Pristine. She'll fetch my price easy."

"And where, exactly, did you get her?" the taller one asked.

"A little kid dropped it off," said Han truthfully. "What matters is that it counts for my debt. Have we got a deal, gentlemen?"

"Fine, Solo. But if she self-destructs, or something"—The taller one let the threat hang.

"She's not gonna explode," Han said exasperatedly.

"Deal," said the taller one finally. "Jabba may accept this."

"Good. He'd be an idiot not to," said Han, grinning, just as a blond boy sprinted into the spaceport. "Have we got a deal?"

"We can't know for sure," said the first one.

"Come on, she's a beauty! Her guns are even charged," Han protested as the boy skidded up to him. "You know he'll take it."

The second alien looked with some suspicion at Han. "All right," he said finally. "Deal."

Han beamed. "Great. You can take care of everythin.' Come on, kid," he said to Luke, who looked far different than the boy he had first met. He seemed calm, somehow, and he had clipped a metal cylinder to his belt. Han's eyes widened as he recognized the weapon of the Jedi. Swearing to himself, he climbed into his beloved ship and called out, "Comin?'"

Vader felt the presence of his former master as though he was standing in front of him. He clutched his lightsaber and climbed out of the shuttle, alighting on the ground. He saw the ramshackle house. Obi-Wan was standing in front of it, his face troubled. "Vader," he acknowledged.

Vader stalked forward. "Lord Vader, Kenobi," he said, showing as much venom through his mechanically aided voice as he could, not that he needed to express his anger through words. The very air crackled with the Dark Side.

"Anakin…" Obi-Wan began. "Pull yourself free from the Dark Side. It corrupts you, yes, but you have not completely succumbed to it. I know that you have not."

"That is not my name," Vader said, raising his lightsaber and activating it.

"No, _Darth Vader_ is not your name," said Obi-Wan forcefully. "You have a son, Anakin! Your life is not lost! You no longer need the Emperor!"

"The Emperor is my Master," Vader said, walking to the older Jedi.

"No, the Emperor is your _owner_! Anakin, you were a slave once, do not let yourself be one once more!"

Obi-Wan suddenly knew that he had gone too far. He barely had time to reach his own lightsaber before that of his former Padawan's was brought humming through the air towards him. "Kenobi, you are the last of the Jedi!" Vader said angrily as they dueled. "Once I kill you, the Jedi will be no more!"

"You're wrong, Anakin," said Obi-Wan, beginning to tire under Vader's furious assaults. "There is still a Jedi within you. And Luke will become one."

"I am _Darth Vader_," Obi-Wan's opponent hissed as he swept the blade up in a viscious chop. Obi-Wan blocked it with some difficulty.

"Listen to me, Anakin," Obi-Wan wheezed as he was forced to use physicality with the man whose limbs were made of durasteel. "I _am _sorry for what happened!"

That his former master was as presumptuous to speak of his injuries infuriated Vader, and with one last strike, he whipped his lightsaber around in a fatal stroke.

Obi-Wan's body vanished, leaving nothing but a pile of robes and his lightsaber.

Vader stood there for some time afterwards, until he remembered his former master's last words. _"And Luke will become one."_

And in realization, Vader was filled with fury that he hadn't felt since he had learned that Padmé was dead. It had been a set-up—Obi-Wan had let Vader become aware of his presence, had fought him, and had died, just to allow Luke time to get away. And he had fallen for it—Luke was lost to him because of his own thirst for revenge.

Finally, he roused himself and returned to his shuttle. This was not over. He _would _find Luke.

"Hey kid. Ever been to Alderaan?"

The boy looked up at him. "Once," he muttered.

There was a slight jolt as the Millenium Falcon leapt into the air, and began to leave the atmosphere. "Yeah, well, we're there for the wine," said Han with a roguish grin. "Fetches a high price, if you take my meanin.'"

Luke stared at Han for a moment, without saying anything. "Thanks for the ride," he said quietly.

"No problem. Your pretty little TIE fighter took care of a debt. We're square," said Han. "What's your name, anyway?"

Luke thought a moment. Should he tell the smuggler his true name? He sighed, realizing that if his father was going to release his name, he'd give out his picture as well. "Luke Skywalker," he said. "I was a pilot trainee on the _Executor_."

Han nearly choked as the left the atmosphere and saw the immense ship before them. "_What_?" He whipped around. "You stole a TIE from _that_ ship?"

Luke nodded.

Han pointed to it. "_That_ one?" He let out a barrage of curses. "Sith, Luke! Don't you know that that is _Darth Vader's _ship? Do you really think he'll be okay with having one of his TIEs stolen?"

Really, Luke thought to himself wryly. Darth Vader's ship? Feeling a tinge of nervousness, he mentally checked his mind shields. Still up. "He won't miss it," Luke said aloud, which was true. He'd be much more concerned over his missing son.

"I'll be the judge of that," Han said, pushing the freighter to its limits and finding a clear space to activate the hyperdrive. What had he gotten himself into?

"—so I had jus' been taken pris'ner, right, and the wine that I gave the twi'lek earlier finally started to work! He fell asleep two feet from me, with two blasters and the key for my binders. I got outta there in five minutes!" Han finished his story and looked expectantly at Luke, who had not seemed to realize that it was over. He groaned. "Look, kid, I'm not gonna be so happy to give you a ride next time if you don't lighten up. What's your problem, anyway?"

Luke glanced up. _You mean besides the fact that my father is Darth Vader and is currently probably unleashing the entire Imperial Navy to find me? _He sighed. "Nothing."

"Then you're always this depressed?"

"I'm not depressed," said Luke, sitting up. He touched the burn on his neck and winced. Sith, it seemed like it had been ages ago… Once more, he saw the lifeless body of Dase before him. He shut his eyes and shook his head quickly to rid himself of the image.

"So, where'd that happen?" Han asked, rummaging around in a drawer.

"I dueled Darth Vader. He took the worst of it, though," said Luke, knowing that the smuggler wouldn't believe him.

Han stared at him for a moment before breaking out into laughter. "Good to know you have a sense of humor, kid, at least. Here." He handed Luke a Bacta patch. "Bacta patch. Heals anything."

"Thanks," said Luke, applying the bandage to his neck. It heals anything? If so, why wouldn't it heal his father?

"Don't mention it. Though, if the Big, Black Battery Pack decides to come after us, you're gonna need more than a Bacta patch when I'm done with you," said Han.

"The what?"

Han rolled his eyes. "Darth Vader, kid." Han could have sworn that he saw a flicker of anger pass through Luke's eyes before it disappeared.

"Oh." The response was terse and controlled. "Where are we?"

Han glanced at the control board. "Dunno," he shrugged. "Chewie always sets the route for hyperspace. We could be near Coruscant or circling Dantooine, for all I know."

"I'm going to get some sleep," said Luke. "Or try to," he added, as another image of Dase's body flashed through his mind.

"Sleep tight!" Han called as Luke disappeared into the passenger lounge.

"He's fine, Chewie," Han muttered crossly as the wookiee roared something. "What could have happened to a ten-year-old, anyway?"

Chewie replied with a seemingly angrier growl.

"Ah, what do you know? Who's the human in this outfit, huh?"


	10. Escape And Farewell

Captain Piett was seriously beginning to worry about Lord Vader. He had returned from Tatooine and had throttled three men in the fifteen minutes he'd been back on board the _Executor_. Captain Piett had certainly not expected quite the level of paternal devotion on the Sith's part that he had exhibited thus far.

"All spaceports on the planet have been closed, my lord," said a sergeant straight out of the Academy. "No reports have come of a TIE fighter, just the one, my lord."

Vader said nothing and waited for the officer to squirm, which he did.

"My lord… Is there anything else you would like me to do?"

Still Vader waited several moments before responding. "I would like you to find my son, sergeant," he said. "And you have not done so."

"My lord, we've done everything in our"—

The other officers winced as the sergeant's body dropped to the floor. Captain Piett stepped in. "Lord Vader, everything possible is being done to find him. All Star Destroyers have been notified and given a holo of the boy. Every main spaceport in the Galaxy has been put on watch for him. He will be found, my lord. I personally swear it."

Vader looked at Piett. "Very well," he said finally. "I will be in my quarters. However—I want _all _spaceports notified. We cannot be sure that only main ones will be used." With that, he strode out of the conference room, and everyone breathed a sigh of relief.

The captain took out his commlink and called the department of the ship's maintenance. "There is another body to collect, Private Jent," he said wearily."

"Another one, sir?"

"Yes, Private. And please do not forget the droid remnants in the main hangar."

"Yes, sir. I won't, sir."

Piett looked around at the assembly of officers. "I suggest that we continue working," he said finally. "I do not think that Lord Vader will be in a better mood until his son is found."

_Luke opened his eyes and saw Dase fallen on the ground. He was dead. He felt horror rise up in him just as Dase disappeared, and became Jisk. _

_"Why did you kill me, Lord Skywalker?" Jisk croaked. "I didn't do anything!"_

_Luke didn't know what to say. "Jisk," he began. "I'm sorry!" But Jisk disappeared before he could apologize, and became Jons._

_"I thought you were going to save me, Lord Skywalker!" Jons cried out. "I didn't mean to annoy you, I swear!"_

_And then it was Vaskall, who looked sadly at him. "Lord Skywalker, you had such potential to be a great flier. Why did you have to kill me? Now we can never fly together again."_

_And then Luke realized that he was staring at Aunt Beru, not Vaskall. "Why did you kill me, Luke? Don't you remember? I raised you until you were thirteen! I loved you like you were my son! Why did you become Darth Vader? What did I do?"_

_And then it was a different woman, one with curly hair and beautiful eyes. She stared up at Luke from her fallen position on a landing platform. Luke realized that he was no longer in the mess hall, but on Mustafar. Luke saw that she was pregnant, but, unlike the others, she didn't speak. She just stared at him._

Luke woke up with a start. His forehead was clammy and his breathing harsh and erratic. At least he hadn't dreamed Mustafar or the operating table, but that had been almost as bad. Why had they called him 'Lord Skywalker?'" Did it mean that he was going to become a Sith, that it was inevitable? Was he going to become like his father? Luke took several deep breaths as an effort to calm himself. And who was the woman at the end?

Luke held his head in his hands. Was it too late for him, now? Was he doomed to be a Sith forever? "I'm sorry," he whispered to no one in particular. "I didn't mean to kill him."

"Hey, Skywalker! We're there!" Han called. Luke cleared his head using the Force and walked into the cockpit. "Welcome to Alderaan," said Han with a grin as they descended into a large, bustling spaceport. "They've got amazing wine here," Han explained. "It's galaxy-famous. It's in high demand, too, for every type of people," he explained. "Which is where I come in."

"Of course," said Luke, holding his lightsaber protectively. He didn't know why, but he had a bad feeling about the spaceport, despite Han's obvious excitement.

Suddenly Chewie growled something at Luke, who stared back blankly. "Ah, he says not to use your"—Han paused and scratched his head. "His what?" he turned back to the wookiee. "His light sword?" He turned back to Luke, bewildered. "I dunno what he's on about," he explained. "First he was sayin' you needed help, and now he's talking about some light sword…"

"Lightsaber," Luke corrected, showing Han the weapon that his father had made.

Han glanced at it. "Don't look much like a sword to me," he commented. "How much do they go for?"

Luke's eyes darkened. "It's not for sale, Han."

"Ah, fine," said Han with a shrug. "You ready to go get some Alderaani wine?"

Luke shrugged. Maybe he could find another, slightly more _legal _transport to wherever Obi-Wan wanted him to go.

They stepped off of the battered freighter and immediately Luke felt the hair stand up on his neck. He was being followed, he knew it.

A squad of stormtroopers marched up to them. "Sir, you and your ship must undergo a search. Please allow all members of your crew to be searched," said the first one.

"Hey, hold on just a sec, here," Han said. "Who are you and since when does Alderaan scan everything in sight?"

With a sinking feeling in his stomach, Luke carefully observed the stormtroopers. One of them had a holo-projector in his hand, and another had a full-ship scanner. Luke winced. "Han…" he said quietly.

The smuggler glanced at him. "What?"

"It's the Imperials," Luke whispered. "Looking for me."

"Why? You'd think they'd look for the TIE before you," said Han. "S'more expensive, anyway."

"Yes, but"—

"Don't worry about it," said Han reassuringly. "Just go through with the scan." He pushed Luke towards the stormtroopers. The one with the holo-projector walked up and turned it on, and Luke winced as he recognized himself.

"Sir, we've got a match," said the stormtrooper, seeming pleased. "Lord Vader has been most displeased with your departure, Mr. Skywalker."

"Listen, I'm not Luke Skywalker, I don't know what you're talking about," Luke began quickly. "Leave me alone!"

"Hold on, there," said Han suddenly. "Why would the big guy want Skywalker anyway? What'd he do?"

The stormtrooper glanced at Han. "Sir, you're under arrest for kidnapping of Luke Skywalker. You will be turned into the custody of Lord Vader." He procured a pair of binders, but Han backed away, looking scared.

"What's going on here?" He asked, attempting to display bravado.

"Han, I'm sorry…" Luke said, looking sincerely remorseful. "I shouldn't have come with you…"

Suddenly Chewbacca stepped forward with a growl. "Sir, you're going to have to remove the wookiee," said the first stormtrooper nervously, holding out his blaster.

"Chewie moves himself if he wants," Han snapped. "Kid, what's goin' on? Why does Vader want you?" Luke hung his head and mumbled something, and Chewie let out a roar. "_What_?" Han asked, aghast. "You're his _kid_?"

Luke turned away. "I'm sorry," he mumbled.

Han looked at Luke and the stormtroopers with fear. "Kid, you gotta get them to let me go," he said. "I don't know what's goin' on here, but I don't believe you. You can't be. I didn't even think that he was human!"

"Sir, we're going to bring you before Lord Vader and he will decide your punishment," said a stormtrooper, walking up to Han.

"No!" Luke shouted angrily. "He didn't do anything!"

"Mr. Skywalker, you are now in our custody"—the first stormtrooper began, but stopped when Luke jumped in front of Han and extended the lightsaber.

"Get out of here," Luke snapped. "Leave him, and me, alone!"

The stormtroopers were clearly nervous about the weapon. "Mr. Skywalker, you are outnumbered," one said. "If you attack Imperial soldiers"—

"You'll die if you attack me," said Luke. "If I don't kill you, my father will."

It seemed that one of the stormtroopers had let out a distress call, because soon two more squads of stormtroopers marched up to surround Han, Chewie, and Luke.

"Kid…" said Han, reaching for his blaster. "I…"

"Be quiet, Han," said Luke tightly. Could he get the smuggler out of this? He had done nothing but help Luke. He didn't deserve to be charged with kidnapping. He sighed. "If you let him go, I'll come quietly."

"Kid, are you crazy? Vader will _kill _you!" Han shouted.

"He wouldn't kill me," said Luke, though he didn't sound so sure of himself. "Do we have a deal?"

"Mr. Skywalker, our expressed orders are to detain you and all of your accomplices," said a stormtrooper, clearly unhappy.

"Well, forget them!" Luke said. "He trained me to use this, you know!" he told them, waving his lightsaber a few times. The stormtroopers shuffled back.

Suddenly blaster fire flew past Luke's shoulder and hit one of the stormtroopers, who immediately drew their own. "Come on, get'em, kid!" Han shouted.

Luke turned around and paled once he saw that Han had drawn his blaster. "What are you _doing_? I was trying to get your out of their hands, and now you practically just guaranteed your death sentence!"

Han didn't give any indication that he had heard him.. "Come on, use your saber thing!"

But Luke had fallen to the ground, his knee caught by blaster fire from one of the stormtroopers.

The action stopped immediately, and the leading stormtrooper turned towards the one who fired the shot. "Our orders were that he must be brought in alive, with no injuries," the clone said. "You have just disobeyed orders, and condemned our entire squad!"

Luke moaned from his spot on the ground, and clutched his knee. His lightsaber was still clutched in his hand, but he had deactivated it. "Leave Han alone, and I'll save your lives," he mumbled through his pain.

The stormtroopers considered his offer. "Deal, Mr. Skywalker."

Two of them walked forward and picked up Luke, supporting him. They put binders on his wrists and took the lightsaber from him. "Now let him get back on the ship," Luke instructed, but the troopers didn't move. He stared at them.

"Sir, you are under Imperial arrest," said a stormtrooper, marching forward and clasping Han's stunned hands in binders.

"Hey, wait a sec!" Han cried. "You're supposed to lemme go!"

"What are you doing?" Luke yelled, trying to get away from the troopers. "You said that you'd let him go!"

Three troopers shot stun blasters at Chewie, who dropped to the ground with a thundering boom. They turned their weapons to the struggling Han. Soon, he too fell to the ground, unconscious. Luke just stared at them as he was dragged away.

Captain Piett saw he had an incoming call on his commlink. Almost dreading it, he pressed the 'receive' button and a holo projected itself. "Sir, we need another aide to Lord Vader, sir."

Piett winced. It had been a day since Vader's son had disappeared, and the Dark Lord's rage had not abated at all. In fact, it seemed as though he was getting worse. "I will inform the personnel office, Private Bekt."

The private nodded his head and disappeared and Piett stared at the datascreen in front of him that indicated the regions of the galaxy that had been scoured for the boy. Was it a coincidence that he had disappeared on Tatooine, his homeworld? Perhaps the boy knew the land better than they did, and was able to hide from troopers.

He sighed and took a sip of the regenerating drink that his aide had brought him. He had been working non-stop, which seemed ludicrous considering that he was the admiral of the ship, but… Lord Vader's orders had to be followed. He sighed again and clicked on the next region, hoping that perhaps the boy had found his way onto the core worlds.

When Han and Chewie came to, they were sharing a poorly lit cell with one window that affirmed that they were in space. Han winced as he roused himself, feeling a massive headache. "Ah, I'm fine," he muttered to Chewie, who had inquired as to Han's health.

Luke was also in the cell, with a rudimentary bandage on his knee and his head in his arms. He was not sleeping, that much Han could tell. "Hey, kid."

He glanced upwards, and Han could faintly see the traces of tears on his cheeks. With a jolt, he remembered that despite the lightsaber and the big words, he was still only a kid. "You okay?"

Luke shrugged. "Better than I will be," he muttered. "I'm really sorry, Han."

Han said nothing for a few moments. "I'll find my way outta this somehow," he said with false bravado. "Jus' gotta escape Vader first." He shivered. "He really your father?"

Luke nodded slowly. "I should have told you."

"Yeah, and I wouldna let you within a light-year of me," said Han. He frowned. "Has he got as bad a temper as they say? Like, he can choke people without touchin' em and stuff? That wizard stuff?"

"It's not 'wizard stuff!'" Luke said indignantly. "It's the Force!"

Han rolled his eyes unbelievingly. "Whatever you say, kid. Is he?"

Luke thought a moment. "Hopefully I'll be able to convince him to let you live," he said thoughtfully. "But… since the stormtroopers hurt me, he won't exactly be in a good mood."

Han stared at him, mouth slightly open. "So he really is your father?"

Luke glared at the smuggler. "Yes."

"How'd you come to live with _him_, though?" Han asked. "What happened to your mother?"

Luke's eyes narrowed. "She's dead."

"Then who'd you live with? You haven't been with him your whole life, have you? And why'd you steal the TIE, anyway?"

Han's questions drew closer and closer to the facts that Luke was absolutely certain he didn't want to talk about. He turned away. "If the _Executor _is still orbiting Tatooine, we've got a while to go," he said distantly. His leg throbbed. "I'm going to go to sleep."

"Now, hold on, kid!" Han protested. "Why won't you tell me?"

"I don't want to talk about it," Luke said crossly. "Just leave me alone."

"Come on, kid," Han persisted. "What is it?"

Luke turned on him, a vicious light shining in his eyes. "He killed my family, all right?" He held up his right hand. "He cut off my hand. And then I killed someone, for no good reason. That's why I ran away. That's why I stole the TIE. You satisfied?"

Han gaped at Luke. The angry light seemed to fade from the boy's eyes, and he held his head in his hand, breathing deeply to try and calm himself. "I don't even want it," he said miserably. "I don't want to be his apprentice anymore. I don't want to be like he is, but I think I already am."

Han could do nothing but stare at him.

Captain Piett turned off the holo with a sigh of relief. At least, the tightness, the nervousness in his breast faded. The boy had been found in a spaceport on Alderaan, and had apparently threatened the troopers with a lightsaber like Lord Vader's. He rubbed his eyes, and began to make the call.

"What is it, Piett?" Vader's deep voice asked. Piett fought to subdue the shudder that the man produced.

"Lord Vader, your son has been found and detained," said Piett quickly, hoping to get to the point as easily as possible. "He was found on Alderaan. He is on his way back to the _Executor _as we speak."

It was Piett's imagination, or the Sith's respirator let out a particularly loud breath. "Good work, Captain," said the man. "See to it that I am notified upon his arrival."

By the time that the ship finally exited hyperspace, Luke was sure that his knee was infected. The blaster fire had shot clean through his kneecap, and while a scab had covered the wound at both openings, the joint was swollen and inflamed. Luke could hardly move it without pain. He had spent most of his time sleeping, and attempting to meditate using the Light Side of the Force, but to no avail. He realized that the guilt, pain, and fear of seeing his father were making it nearly impossible for him to access the side that had been so calming the one time his father had used it.

Han hadn't spoken to him much. He either seemed to realize that Luke needed time alone, or he was scared of him. Luke hoped it was the former, but he wouldn't be surprised if it was both. The smuggler spent his time in quiet conversation with the wookiee, and Luke only caught half of the conversation, when he was tempted to listen.

Finally, the door to their cell opened and two stormtroopers entered. Chewie immediately bristled and stood, his mass dwarfing the cell. Luke sat up from his position and it was to him that the troopers spoke. "We have docked in the _Executor_, Mr. Skywalker," said one of them. "You are to come with us."

Knowing it was pointless to resist, Luke nodded and stood, keeping his weight off his injured leg. The troopers gripped his elbows and helped him out of the cell. After his departure, ten more troopers entered the cell, one with binders.

"Hey, wait a sec," said Han, realizing his predicament. "What do ya think you're doin'?"

"Sir, you're to come with us," said the stormtrooper. "Do not make us use force."

Han was intelligent enough to know that he was no match for ten troopers without his blaster, and that Chewie would easily be overtaken by blaster fire. Sighing, he stood. "All right," he muttered, and held out his hands.

In a matter of what seemed like seconds, Han and Chewie both were escorted into a gigantic room that had several stormtroopers standing at attention. There were also three other men in uniforms that indicated high rank. Han swallowed. Would Vader come to greet his son personally?

He was brought up to stand behind Luke, whose head was drooping in between the two troopers that supported him. Han swallowed nervously, his throat suddenly dry. What were they waiting for?

His unspoken question was soon after as echoing footsteps suddenly reached all their ears. He noticed Luke's shoulders tighten. The hangar went completely silent, and for the first time in his life, Han heard the infamous mechanized breathing that was just barely perceptible on the holos.

Chewie beside him uttered a low growl and one of the troopers in front of him gave him a swift kick to keep him silent.

And then Han froze in fear.

Darth Vader walked up to them, his cloak fanning out behind him, the terrifying mask the stuff of nightmares. At his side was a metal cylinder Han knew to be a lightsaber. He swallowed again as the Dark Lord approached him.

"Did you have a nice trip, my _son_?" he hissed.

Luke looked up at his father and said nothing, whereas Han couldn't suppress a shudder at the voice. How could _he_ be the father of the boy that stood in front of Han?

Suddenly the Sith's demeanor seemed to change, and somehow, the room grew colder. At his sides, Han noticed that his gloved hands were clenched. "The squad who detained my son step forward."

The stormtroopers holding onto Han and Chewie let go and shuffled forward towards Vader and organized a quick formation.

"Did I not give the expressed order that he was not to be harmed in any way?"

The anger in Vader's voice was unmistakable, even through the mask. "My lord, it was an accident," began one stormtrooper quickly.

"I do not tolerate accidents of any kind," said Vader. The stormtroopers said nothing until one bravely spoke up.

"My lord… He possessed a lightsaber at the time of his capture," said the one, walking forward to present the weapon to Vader, who raised his hand. Impossibly, it seemed to _fly _to his hand. Han blinked once, twice. _Impossible._

They waited for several moments while Vader seemed to have frozen as he inspected the weapon. Finally, he hooked it onto his belt. "I wish to understand just why my orders regarding my son's treatment were disregarded."

The stormtrooper was obviously nervous. "My lord, his companion opened fire and my squad retaliated. It seems that Mr. Skywalker was caught in the crossfire."

Vader strode forward and gripped the man's neck beneath his mask and lifted him into theair. "That is unacceptable," he said, his voice echoing throughout the room. Han just watched, entranced and terrified.

"Father, don't!" Luke suddenly cried out. Vader turned towards his son and flung the stormtrooper into the wall with inhuman strength. The clone slid to the floor, unmoving. Han flinched. Would that be him?

"Take my son to the medbay," Vader instructed. Once Luke was removed, he turned to Han and Chewie. He walked towards them. "You kidnapped my son," he said, clearly angry.

"Sir, we—ah—didn't know that he was yours," said Han quickly. "He was just a kid, asking for passage, I didn't know. You gotta believe me!"

"Regardless, you are a smuggler," said Vader. "Take them to holding cells," he commanded, and then stalked out of the room. Han thought that every single man in the place let out audible sighs.

A _smuggler_? His son had taken up with a smuggler, of all things? Vader walked quickly through the halls. He had killed Obi-Wan Kenobi, so that was a victory to be reported to his master. Still, he hadn't gotten the satisfaction from the act that he had anticipated, in light of his son's subsequent avoidance of his father. Had Obi-Wan managed to influence him with the Jedi filth?

Vader hoped not, but Luke's presence in the Force had changed subtly. He felt older, wiser, more informed. And when he had cried out for him to stop choking the stormtrooper, that had been almost concrete proof. Could his son have betrayed him after everything? Even though he knew what had happened to his father at the hands of the Jedi?

Vader clenched his fists. If Obi-Wan had managed to take his son from him once more… Vader didn't allow himself to complete the thought as he entered the communications chamber. Collecting himself, he entered the access codes and moved to the broadcast pad, kneeling down.

"What news have you to report, my friend?" The croak of the Emperor gave Vader the assurance that it was acceptable for him to stand. He stood.

"I went to the surface of Tatooine," said Vader slowly. "And found that Obi-Wan Kenobi had taken residence there."

"Ah…" said the Sith. "Excellent. Did you dispose of him, my friend?"

"Yes, master."

"The revenge must have been sweet," Palpatine hissed. "Why were you on Tatooine, Lord Vader?"

The question was a surprise, but Vader had no choice but to tell the truth. Should he wish to lie, it had to be a lie crafted in advance. "My son stole a TIE fighter and went to the surface," he began. "After killing a boy in anger."

The despot laughed, the sound filling the chamber. "I see. Did he make contact with Kenobi?"

How had the man predicted that? Vader didn't want to answer. What would it mean for Luke if he did? "I believe so, my lord. I recovered him this afternoon, however."

"Then he has been contaminated," said Palpatine, his voice suddenly harsh and dangerous.

"Master, I am sure that he remains loyal"—Vader began, the chill of the Dark Side emanating from the holo of Palpatine.

"No. Kenobi was cunning, he will have influenced the boy."

For a second, Vader felt something that he had not in over a decade. Real fear. It began in his stomach and spread to his entire body, keeping him stock-still.

"He must be destroyed. Report back to me when the boy is dead."

He had to kill his son.

His son.

Inquisitive, happy Luke Skywalker.

His son.

Vader stood for several minutes long after the Emperor's holo had disappeared, completely stunned. Was this some kind of test of his loyalty? Was this a last measure to make sure that his servant harbored no feelings for the child of Anakin Skywalker?

Vader was nauseated. It was unthinkable. As soon as he had found out that the boy was his son to begin with, he had been bowled over by guilt over the boy's hand. And now his master was trying to make him kill Luke? Kill the child of his own flesh and blood? To make it worse, Vader knew that this sickening idea was just a game with Palpatine—the Sith certainly had no qualms about destroying those with whom he was close—Naboo was proof of that.

And he had ordered Vader to kill his only son, the last remaining link to Anakin Skywalker and to Padmé Naberrie.

What would Padmé think?

Vader closed that train of thought quickly. He could not afford to think about her. Right now, the problem was his son, lying in the medbay somewhere while droids tended to his knee. That alone was enough to make Vader want to kill every single trooper that had merely _looked _at his son, and here he was, supposed to kill the boy?

He had done nothing wrong.

The Emperor merely wanted him dead because he was afraid of the consequences of his loyalty to his father rather than to him.

Vader curled his lip in disgust. At the beginning, he had been ordered to kill Jedi. Then Rebels. Then criminals. Those deaths were ones he agreed with because they were all necessary to insure the eventual peace and order of the Galaxy. But this—his son—it would do nothing to contribute to that dream. It would merely appease the mind of his master. Who was he to make such a decision? Who was he to lay down the death sentence for Vader's son?

He could not kill Luke. The very idea sickened him.

But what else could he do?

There was no possible way he could disobey his master outright. That would be treason—both against the Empire and the Sith Order. There was no possible way that he could kill Luke.

He was at a stalemate.

Unless… Vader was hit with an idea. What if…?

Luke sensed his father's presence nearing him and attempted to quell his wildly beating heart. How much trouble would he be in? Would he find out about his meeting with Obi-Wan? Was he really corrupted, like Obi-Wan had told him? He clamped down on his thoughts just as his father, as tall and as imposing as ever, strode inside.

"Father, I'm sorry"—he began, but stopped when the Sith raised a hand.

"Don't waste my time with apologies," he said shortly. "How is your knee?"

Luke inspected it. "It's fine. The droids repaired it easily."

"Good. Listen to me, Luke, you can no longer stay with me," said Vader, and for the first time in his life, Luke thought that he heard a note of desperation in his father's mechanically aided voice.

"What? Why?" he asked once he found his voice, astounded. He had accepted his father's imminent anger, but to be kicked out entirely?

Luke felt a wave of agitation roll out from his father as the man clasped his hands behind his back and began to pace. "I have just been ordered to kill you," he said finally, and it was as though an iron vice had clapped down on Luke's heart.

"What? You're going to…?" Luke asked weakly, suddenly more afraid of his father than ever before. Obi-Wan had been right! His father _would _kill him!

"Of course not," said Vader irritably, turning to face his son. Luke wished more than ever that he could see his father's expression. "I would never hurt you."

Luke let out a breath that he hadn't known he'd been holding. "Then what…?"

"You must leave the ship," said Vader. "As soon as possible."

"Where can I go?" Luke asked, astonished.

"You must help the smuggler and his wookiee friend to escape," said Vader firmly. "I have seen to it that the ship has been properly outfitted, both with credits and fuel. I want you to allow him to transport you somewhere where you will be safe."

Luke had never been more surprised at his father than at that moment. "You must survive, Luke," Vader continued. "I would not be able to forgive myself if you died."

"I won't," said Luke slowly. "What'll happen to me?"

"I don't know," said Vader as he took his son's hand and helped him to stand. He looked at his son for a moment, and then reached for his belt and unclipped the lightsaber that he had assembled so long ago. "Here. Use this for protection," he said, handing the weapon to his son, who looked at it with a mixture of surprise and relief.

Luke stared up at his father. "Is it really yours?"

Vader hesitated. Admitting the truth meant that he believed himself to be Anakin once more, which was unacceptable, but he had no desire to lie to his son. "It once was," he said finally, settling for a half-truth. "Go to your chambers and get what you need," he instructed. "There is a changing of the guard in the brig at 1900 hours. That is when your best chance to escape with the smuggler is," he said.

Luke nodded and clutched the lightsaber. "I will see you again, Father," he said firmly. "And then you will come back to the Light."

Vader was rendered speechless for a few moments. "It is too late for me, my son," he said finally, ashamed at the part of him that longed to do as he son said. "Do not try to contact me," he said firmly. "I will be forced to follow you."

Luke nodded in understanding. "Go now. You do not have long." Vader rested a hand on his son's shoulder and then removed it, his heart heavy.

Luke flashed him a sad smile and then left, using the Force to cloak his movements through the hall.

Vader left the medbay a few minutes later, heading towards the brig. He didn't notice the small figure that slunk out of the medbay seconds after he had left.

Han looked up hopefully as the door to his cell opened with a hiss, but his hopes quickly dissipated as the absolute last person he wanted to see in the entire Galaxy stepped through the door. "Listen, your lordship, I didn't know he was your kid, okay? I'm sorry!" He was dry-mouthed as he tried to talk his way out of the grisly death he was sure was coming.

"Be quiet, Solo," said Vader. "I am not here to kill you. And I certainly would not decapitate you with my bare hands, even if I was."

Han was speechless. How had the man known his thoughts?

"I am here, however, to tell you two things," said Vader. "As much as the idea disgusts me, you are to take my son with you. I want you to protect him at all costs. Take him wherever he desires to go. I have placed one hundred thousand credits as payment on your ship.."

Han simply stared at the giant. "You mean…?"

"Secondly," Vader continued, ignoring Han, "In approximately thirty minutes, the guards will change and there will be a temporary lapse of security. My son is coming down here to help you to escape." He stood and swept back his cloak to reveal a blaster. He handed it to Han, who accepted the high-quality weapon in surprise. "Use this. Tell no one of Luke's parentage, and protect the information as much as you would him," Vader said. "This conversation did not occur. Am I understood?"

It was all Han could do to nod.

Luke quickly dressed in new clothes and packed a small bag. For once, he was grateful that he had no true personal belongings—trying to pack them would be difficult. In the end, he settled for the mouse droid, his commlink, a few tools, and a small datapad. He shoved everything into a bag along with a change of clothes and slung it over his shoulder, lightsaber at his hip. Taking a deep breath, he reached out for the Force and used it to dull the senses of the guards patrolling the hallway. He opened the door and slipped out, running the way to the brig.

"It's fine if I go inside," Luke said breathlessly to a guard, inserting a bit of the Force.

"It's fine if you go inside," the stormtrooper parroted back at him. Luke ran inside, just in time to see Han and Chewie run down the hallway, Han clutching a blaster.

"Come on, kid, we ain't got too much time!" Han said, not looking surprised to see him in the least. Luke nodded and turned, back, his hand on the hilt of his lightsaber.

Chewie took care of the lone guard with a hard hit to his helmet and Luke led the way down the hallway, taking the fastest of the many routes to the side hangar, where he knew they would have placed Han's ship. He used the Force to cloak himself so that no one would notice his presence and would only see the wookiee and the smuggler. With surprisingly little resistance, they finally made it onto the Millenium Falcon. Han and Chewie slid into the pilot's and co-pilot's chair and Luke sat down in the lounge, noting with interest the several large crates that hadn't been there earlier.

"Quick, Chewie, they're sendin' out more stormies! We gotta get outta here! Fire at the hatch or somethin'!"

Caught with an idea, Luke jumped up and moved to the cockpit. Focussing on the Force, he reached out and brought the hatch open like he had with the TIE fighter. Han stared at him in disbelief until Chewie roared something and he jerked back to the task at hand. In an instant, he had fired the engines and gotten the Falcon airborne, despite the laser fire from the stormtroopers.

Two minutes later, they were in hyperspace, and for the first time since he had learned that his father still lived, Luke felt completely alone.

END BOOK ONE


	11. Goldenrod Reunion

Vader stepped inside the communications chamber, hoping to end his report as quickly as possible. He had waited until the Millennium Falcon was impossibly far away in hyperspace so that there wouldn't be the question of following the ship. He knelt down and waited for the Emperor's enormous holo to be projected in front of him.

"Ah. You responded sooner that I had anticipated, my friend," said the Emperor, his ruined voice echoing throughout the chamber. "Rise."

Vader did so and waited to be asked a question. His lie was carefully crafted in his mind, complete with imagined memories. "Is the Skywalker brat dead?" The Emperor asked sharply.

"Yes, Master," said Vader easily, though he bristled at the label. Skywalker brat? His son was no brat!

"Excellent. I feared that he was having a negative effect on you, my friend," said the Emperor, too caught up in his pleasure to doubt Vader's words. "A child i

THREE YEARS LATER

"You want us to take it for 10,000 credits," said Luke gently to the tough female Twi'lek that ran the underground spice run on Dantooine.

The woman stared at him. "We want you to take it for 10,000 credits," she said dumbly.

Luke grinned. "Excellent. We'll need some fuel, too."

"You'll need some fuel, too."

"Then it's settled," said Han, cutting in. "Thanks, Casyr. We owe ya one."

The Twi'lek shook her head as if exiting a trance. "No problem, Solo," she said. "But if I get word that you drop your cargo at the first sight of a Star Destroyer, I'll have your hide. I'll put the biggest bounty on your head"—she let the threat hang in the hair, glowering at him. "Go on," she said finally. She turned to a Mon Calamari at her left. "Get them what they need," she said, as if disgusted, and stomped out of the chamber.

Han glanced sidelong at Luke, who shrugged. "Come on, Broski," he said to the Mon Calamari with a winning grin. "You heard the pretty lady."

The alien looked suspiciously at Luke, who shrugged. "I have a way with women," said the short blond, grinning and raising his hands as if to claim innocence.

Broski snorted. "I don't know who you think you are."

"That makes two of us," said Luke with another winning smile. "Come on, Solo," he mocked. "Let's get back to the ship. We still have a hand of Sabaac to play."

"No! No way," Han protested firmly. "I don't trust you."

"Your loss, then," said Luke airily. "Must be losing your touch."

Han narrowed his eyes at the boy. "Fine. One more match."

Luke beamed. "Got any credits left?"

"Shaddup," Han grumbled as they followed the Mon Calamari to the hangar, where the Falcon was being recharged and loaded up with variously sized crates. "Hey, be careful!" she shouted as a droid accidentally crashed into the starboard hull of his ship. "It took me two standard weeks to attach that radar!"

"More like two hours, with me," said Luke with another grin. "You ready?"

"Yeah, yeah," Han mumbled. "C'mon," he said to Chewie, who walked onto the Falcon balancing two crates on his enormous arms. The wookiee let out an indignant roar.

"Hey, what's your name, handsome?"

Luke turned around to see another blue-skinned Twi'lek. "Who's asking?" he asked offhandedly.

The woman grinned. "Cautious. I like you, flyboy."

Luke crossed his arms. "You didn't answer."

"The names K'mara," said the female seductively. "Yours?"

"Luke," said the one in question. The Twi'lek leaned forward and rested her arms on his waist.

"Why don't you postpone your departure, Luke?" she whispered, sliding her hands across his waist. "I'd like to give you a tour…"

Luke's eyes narrowed and his hand flew to hers just as it closed around his lightsaber. "Don't even try," he said mildly.

K'mara grinned and back off. "Fine. You win. How much is it going for, anyway?"

"Family heirloom," said Luke distantly. He brought himself back to the present. "It isn't for sale."

"All right, all right," said K'mara. "Let me know if you change your mind."

"Will do," said Luke, just as a very annoyed looking Han appeared at the top of the ramp.

"You plannin' on comin', kid?"

"Yep," said Luke. He glanced once more at the Twi'lek. "Until next time, K'mara."

She smiled and backed away. Luke turned and strode back up into the ship, shaking his head. Every single smuggler that he had ever come across had asked about the lightsaber. The first time it had happened with a female had ended in his using the Force to call it back to him. The he had had to modify her memory, knowing that if word got out about a boy using the Force, the Empire would be on him like flies to a dead bantha.

Luke slid into his seat in the lounge. "All set, Han," he called out.

A few minutes later, they were in hyperspace. Luke sighed and went to his room. It was times like these, when he was reminded of his lightsaber's maker…

His father. Luke wondered what he was doing. He hadn't seen him once, except for holos, since his departure three years earlier. He had talked to him mentally once, when they had accidentally come across the _Executor _after exiting hyperspace and the mammoth ship had begun to fire on them. No one was more grateful for that particular connection of his than then. But still… Despite the company of Han and Chewie, Luke was lonely. He had grown so accustomed to his father's Force presence that he felt completely isolated. Remembering Obi-Wan's words, he knew that it was for the best, but it didn't stop him from missing his father, however unbelievable Han might find that sentiment.

Luke flopped on his bunk and sighed. Since his "escape" from the _Executor_, he had discreetly managed to do some research, and had found Obi-Wan to have died at his father's hands as well as every other Jedi that he had looked up. On a whim, he had checked his own status and had found the same situation as all the others.

It frustrated him to no end. Obi-Wan had said that he was supposed to be a Jedi—he had insinuated enough, certainly—but how was he supposed to become one if there weren't any left except for Anakin Skywalker, who wasn't quite himself at the moment?

Luke scowled. He had wondered the same thing for three years, and hadn't come any closer to an answer. With a sigh, he rolled over on his back and reached for the Force to meditate.

Darth Vader stepped inside the ship that was supposedly on a diplomatic mission with distaste. As usual, the Rebels had failed to think before their actions and had exposed themselves all too readily by opening fire upon Imperial stormtroopers. That would incriminate their leader, Senator Leia Organa, far too easily.

The one in question stepped up to Vader, unbridled disgust evident on her features. "Darth Vader. I should have known. Only you would be so bold," she spat, crossing her arms.

"What have you done with the plans to the Death Star, Princess Organa?" he asked, not caring to get into a dispute with the woman known for her fierce temper and stubbornness. She, unlike her late father, had refused to stand down under Imperial scrutiny. On one level, she impressed Vader, but on another, of course, she had proven to be a thorn in his side. She was one of the few Rebels who bothered to cover her tracks efficiently.

"I don't know what you're talking about," she said angrily. "We're on a diplomatic mission"—

"Spare me your lies, Princess," said Vader, a touch of annoyance causing him to lift his hand to stop her. "I want those plans. Where are they?"

Suddenly two stormtroopers marched quickly into view. "My lord Vader, we have found two droids attempting to access an escape pod. What shall we do with them?"

Behind his mask, Vader could barely stop himself from smiling in satisfaction. "Excellent. She has hidden the plans in the droids. Bring them to my workroom aboard the Death Star when we arrive."

"They're just droids!" said Leia, her face suddenly pale. "Please, let me have them, I've owned them since childhood"—

"Your protests only incriminate your cause further, Organa," said Vader. He turned to a stormtrooper at his side. "Take her into a holding cell to await interrogation. She still has yet to reveal the Rebel base, though I am sure that she will do so."

"I hate you!" she cried out as her hands were viciously yanked forward and binders clasped on. "You're a monster!"

Vader was unfazed. "Make sure she is guarded at all times. I do not want her suddenly to escape."

"I hate you!" she repeated. "I thought once that you couldn't possibly be as bad as you seem, but that was before you murdered your own child!"

Vader froze and turned to her. Before he knew what he was doing, he had grabbed her around the throat. "Do not speak of matters that you do not understand, Princess," he said venomously.

She looked properly afraid. "Luke was too good to be sithspawn," she spat once she had recovered herself. "One day, I promise you'll get exactly what you deserve for killing him and my father!"

"Your petty promises are useless if you are dead, Princess," Vader said after a moment. He let her go. "Take her away."

_Luke watched in horror as the superlaser beams came together and in one horrific split-second, shot out towards Alderaan. The planet exploded and Luke almost collasped at the waves in the Force that were caused by the billions of deaths. He sagged to his knees and felt a heavy hand on his shoulder, lending him the support he needed to stay upright._

_The man at his right, smiling sickeningly. "Dantooine is far too remote for an effective base, Princess Leia. Take her to a holding cell to await execution."_

_Luke looked up to see his father standing behind him stoically. How could this be? How could he have just stood there and allowed billions to die? "I hate you," he whispered, though the words sounded as though they weren't his. Vader simply stood and watched._

_A guard of stormtroopers marched towards him and led him away from the viewport. Luke felt a leaden pit of dread form in his stomach. His execution…_

Luke opened his eyes with a start, sickened. What had the vision meant? Was it a vision of the future? Was the Empire with some sort of horrible weapon going to destroy that beautiful planet and all its occupants? Shakily, he got to his feet. And was Leia, the girl he had met but once, going to be executed? For what? Was she a rebel? He went towards the 'fresher, needing to relax. Not for the first time, he wished that the Falcon had water reserves like the _Executor _had before brushing away such a petty concern.

He hadn't had such a vision since that time on Bain, when he had—

Luke cut off his train of thought sharply. He did not need to recollect that particular memory. The fact remained—did his vision show the future? Was the Force trying to tell him that he needed to stop it from happening, that he couldn't allow Alderaan to be destroyed, or Leia killed?

Luke rubbed a hand through his overgrown hair. He needed to cut it, and soon. He shook his head, and then nearly jumped out of his skin as a voice told him, "You must save Leia, Luke."

He whirled around in the tiny space and saw the glowing, blue figure of Obi-Wan Kenobi looking at him and smiling benevolently. Luke's eyes widened. Was he going mad?

Obi-Wan chuckled slightly. "You're not crazy, Luke."

"What—What are you?" he managed at last, backing as far away from the strange ghostlike figure as he could in the small space.

"I am… what you would call a ghost," said Obi-Wan with another smile, which quickly turned to a frown. "Luke, you have spent the last three years doing nothing."

"That's not true!" Luke protested, getting over the fact that he was talking to a ghost in favor of indignation. "I've been trying to find a Jedi to teach me, but they're all dead!"

"They have been murdered," Obi-Wan corrected him, and Luke's eyes flashed. "You have spent the last three years using your Force abilities to wrench money from under people's noses. That is not honor, from the your father's perspective or from mine," he said firmly. "You are evading your destiny, and rejecting your legacy. You must become a Jedi."

"Rejecting my legacy?" Luke asked darkly. "What legacy is that? Following my father's footsteps to the Dark Side? Honestly, Obi-Wan, I'm not so sure I want to become a Jedi. The Empire seems to be doing okay for itself."

Obi-Wan was suddenly angry. "Luke, you've become selfish! This is not about you or your father, this is about the lives of quadrillions! Under Palpatine's rule, this Galaxy will self-destruct, or worse, become the embodiment for the Dark Side!"

Luke was subdued. "But I can't be a Jedi without a teacher," he said. "So what am I supposed to do?"

"That answer will come to you in time," said Obi-Wan prophetically.

Luke groaned. "That's what you said last time!"

"And I am still right. For now, you must save Leia."

"Save her? How? I don't even know where she is!" Luke said indignantly. "And plus, she's a Rebel! If my father finds out"—

"What is he going to do, Luke? He cannot have any interaction with you, or his master will know of his betrayal."

Luke perked up. "Speaking of that"—

"What is it?"

"My father isn't corrupted," said Luke proudly. "He saved my life. And Han's and Chewie's. If he was totally evil like you say, he wouldn't have done that. His master told him to kill me, and he refused."

Obi-Wan said nothing for a few moments. "Do not give in to hope that Anakin Skywalker will return, Luke. The grip of the Dark Side is impossible to let go of."

"You're such a hypocrite," Luke said angrily. "You told me that all we have is hope, that I must overcome the Dark Side! If it's supposedly impossible for my father, why is it possible for me?"

"Luke, your father… He has been consumed by the Darkness," said Obi-Wan gently. "The goodness that was in him has been destroyed."

"What about what's left, though?" Luke protested. "Why can't you just believe me? I _know _there is good in him!"

Obi-Wan sighed. "I can see that I will not convince you," he said finally. "You must save Leia, Luke, and soon, or it will be too late for her and for Alderaan."

A stab of guilt shot through Luke, and he looked down at his feet.

"Hey kid? Are you talking to yourself in there, or what?"

Luke looked up sharply and noted with some surprise that Obi-Wan had vanished. He frowned and opened the 'fresher door to see a puzzled-looking Han. He steeled himself. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you," he said, which was the truth. "But we have to talk."

Han followed him to the lounge, where Luke recounted much of his vision to Han. "So you want us to go to some giant battle station full of Imps and try and rescue a _princess_?" Han asked in disbelief when Luke finished.

Luke looked abashed. "Well… yeah."

"Over some crackpot vision? Luke, you know I don't believe in the Force," said Han doubtfully.

Luke's eyes flashed. "How can you not, when I've used it for three straight years to save our necks _and _make a profit?"

"All right, all right," Han conceded. "But still… Luke, you're seein' things. And you want us to go and risk our lives over some girl?"

"I have to. And it's for Alderaan, too, Han," Luke reminded him.

"Alderaan does have good wine."

Luke rolled his eyes and an idea hit him. "Listen, Han. If we rescue her, remember that she is a princess," he said slyly. "We'll be paid well."

Han looked up in surprise. "That's one angle I didn't think about," he admitted. He grinned. "I'll let Chewie know."

Vader stepped inside his workroom and froze. It couldn't be.

"Greetings! I am C-3PO, human/cyborg relations. If I can be of any service to you"—

"Threepio?" he asked weakly. How in the name of the Force had his childhood droid gotten into the hands of Leia Organa, of all people? He glanced down at a series of beeps and whistles from a blue astromech droid and his eyes widened. "R2-D2?"

The droid whistled the affirmative.

"Why, yes, I'm afraid that I don't quite remember you," said Threepio brightly. "I'm terribly sorry. You see, I have suffered one memory wipe. What is your serial number?"

Vader almost choked. The droid thought that he was a _droid_? The thought both infuriated and amused him. After all, he _was_ mostly cybernetic.

"I am not a machine. Entirely," he added as an afterthought.

The protocol droid managed, somehow, to look heartily embarrassed. "Oh, sir, I'm terribly sorry! I had no idea! It is simply that I saw your faceplate and I assumed…"

"It's a mask," Vader explained. He wondered idly if he truly known what he was doing when he had wired those particular personality circuits. "Be quiet," he said finally, and the golden droid silenced itself immediately. "Which of you has the Death Star plans?"

"I'm sorry, sir, but I'm afraid I don't know what you're talking about," said Threepio. "After all I am only a protocol droid, and I'm meant only for translation"—He stopped to listen to a few beeps from Artoo. "If I may inquire, sir, what is your name?"

"Ana"—Vader began, before stopping himself in shock. What was wrong with him? That name was dead and gone, long buried! Had it just been the surprise of seeing Threepio again getting to him? He reached for the Dark Side reassuringly.

"Ana? That is an odd name for a man of your appearance, sir, not meaning to offend"—

"It's not," he said brusquely. "I am Darth Vader, Dark Lord of the Sith."

"Oh my! Lord Vader!" said Threepio in surprise. "It is an honor"—

"I want to know where the Death Star plans are," he said firmly. They were most likely hidden in the astromech, considering that Threepio didn't have much of a databank and would likely blab it anyway. He turned to Artoo. "Artoo, I want you to power down."

The droid responded with a series of rude-sounding beeps, and Threepio gasped. "Artoo, that is not a polite way to talk! This is Lord Vader!"

"What did he say?" Vader asked.

"Oh, Lord Vader, I'm loathe to repeat it"—Threepio began nervously.

"Do so."

The protocol droid was clearly unhappy. "He said that he wouldn't listen to another metal can to tell him what to do unless it was his maker," said Threepio. "I do apologize, sir, he is such an impolite little thing"—

"I owned him at one time," Vader interrupted. "I command him to power down."

The little droid responded, and Threepio translated: "He says that he has no memory of ever serving you, Lord Vader."

Vader groaned mentally. Would he have to tell the droids the truth in order to find out? Suddenly, he could have kicked himself. He could do it manually, for the Force's sake. He turned to the astromech and used the Force to lift it to his table ("Oh my!" said Threepio) and to power it down. He reached for the correct tool on his table and began to work.

"So, where is this battle station thing?" Han asked once Luke joined him in the cockpit. E turned to him. "You positive that we're gonna get paid for this hero mission?"

"It's not a hero mission," Luke said firmly.

"What do ya call it then? We're going to a battle station full of stormtroopers to try and rescue a Rebel hostage. I call that a hero mission," said Han dryly as he reached over to monitor their position in hyperspace. "Alderaan, right?"

"Yeah," said Luke. "When will we get there?"

"Two days," said Han. "Go back and pray to the Force or whatever. We're gonna need whatever help it can give us."

Luke rolled his eyes. "I'll be back," he said finally as he returned to his bunk.

Leia stiffened as Darth Vader stepped inside her cell. "You," she said tightly.

"Yes," said Vader, moving to stand in front of her with his hands behind his back. "I have some questions for you, Princess."

"I am a Galactic Senator," Leia began angrily. "The Senate will not stand for this!"

"The Senate will be dissolved in a matter of days," said Vader coldly. "I suggest you answer my questions if you want to live."

"I will not," Leia said, turning away her head.

"I will have answers, one way or another. Do not make this unpleasant," said Vader dangerously.

"Unpleasant? Unpleasant like you killed your son?" Leia spat.

"I reiterate that your information on that subject is highly erroneous," said Vader calmly.

"I hate you," she said darkly. "And I will not bend."

"Very well." Vader turned to the side. "Employ process 2," he said to the spherical droid that hovered into view. "She wishes to make this an experience that she will not forget. We will do that."

Luke was standing over Hans' shoulders a day later when he suddenly buckled, hearing the screams of billions echo throughout his head. _Alderaan_! He fell to his knees, fighting the urge to throw up. Chewie asked what the problem was and he responded with a moan.

Were they too late? Had whatever monstrosity the Empire had created destroyed Alderaan? Slowly his vision cleared and he felt himself being carried into the lounge and sat down. "Luke, what's wrong?" Han asked, bewildered. He handed him a ration bar that Luke took a bite of an grimaced.

"Alderaan," he managed finally, sickened still by the enormous ripples in the Force that was the destruction of the planet. "Has been destroyed."

"What!" Han exclaimed. "What are you talking about? Nothing can destroy an entire planet!"

Luke took several deep breaths to try and calm himself. What, indeed, could have done that? What battle station could do something so horrible? "Where are we?" he asked finally.

"We'll be there soon enough," said Han, pale. "Are you sure? How could you know, anyway?  
"The Force," said Luke tightly as he ran a hand through sweaty hair. "And yes, I'm sure. You remember my dream? I saw it as though I was Leia."

"Leia? The Princess?" Han asked dubiously. "Princesses are finicky, Luke. I think we should go on to our drop-off point…"

"No," said Luke, feeling compelled. "We have to save her."

Han furrowed his brow. "Personally, I say the loss of the wine is worse than her."

"Shut up, Solo," said Luke wearily. "I'm going to try and ask my father if he knows what happened."

Han paled. "I don't think that's a good idea."

"Why not?"

Han bit his lip. "What if he gave the order, kid?"

Luke stared at his friend for a minute that seemed like eternity. "No," he said finally. "He couldn't have. He wouldn't."

"Vader's done some pretty bad stuff, Luke," said Han gently. "I wouldn't be surprised if he had… you know…"

"No!" Luke shouted, fear clawing at his heart. Was Obi-Wan right? Could his father be so evil that he wouldn't even think twice about killing billions of innocent people? He felt another rush of nausea through his stomach. "He can't have. He wouldn't have."

"I don't think you should ask," said Han firmly. "You told me that he wants you to contact him only in emergencies, right?"

Luke nodded silently.

"Well, we're not in any danger yet," said Han. "Hold off, okay?"

Finally, Luke nodded.

Several hours later, they exited hyperspace (against Han's will) and saw, as they had expected, nothing where Alderaan should have been. Luke swallowed. "Where is the battle station?"

Han shrugged. "I dunno. Maybe it went on to another system."

"It doesn't make sense," said Luke as he examined the area through the viewports. He pointed towards Alderaan's moon. "Shouldn't the blast have destroyed that?"

"I dunno. Let's go check it out," said Han, switching on some controls and maneuvering the freighter to head towards the moon. Suddenly, Luke froze.

"Han, that isn't a moon," he said tightly.

"What are you talking about?" Han asked, looking up at his friend. "Are you sure you're okay? You've been acting weird."

Luke tried to swallow despite a suddenly dry mouth. He pointed a shaking hand towards the massive structure. "_That _is the battle station."

It had taken considerable willpower to stay on his feet after Tarkin gave the order. Vader, for once, was glad for his mechanical legs—they held him up as billions of sentient beings were decimated. He tightened his grip on Leia's shoulder, feeling her sorrow. Tarkin—Tarkin was an animal. He had given the order simply to exhibit this monstrous toy's firepower, and had not even done so on a dangerous planet. Alderaan, like Naboo, was pacifistic.

"Ready her execution," said Tarkin, turning to Vader. "Take her away."

Not for the first time, Vader found himself struggling not to Force-choke the pompous man. Who was he to give orders to Darth Vader, Dark Lord of the Sith, apprentice to Darth Sidious? Nodding stiffly, he steered the shell-shocked girl out of the viewport and handed her off to three stormtroopers just as a familiar presence prickled on his subconscious and rooted him to the spot.

_Luke? _He called out in complete surprise. What was his son doing here, of all places? Had he come in response to Alderaan's destruction?

_Father_, Luke said shortly, and Vader detected a note of uncertainty in between the maturity that he felt in his son. His boy had grown much older than the last time that they had spoken. HE turned and followed the stormtroopers down the corridor.

_What are you doing here, my son?_

_Father, tell me you didn't give the order to destroy Alderaan_. Luke sounded desperate. Vader was surprised. Surely his son knew him better than that?

_Of course not. A man named General Tarkin, my temporary superior, gave it._

_Your _superior

The note of complete surprise in his son's tone amused him. _Yes. Why are you here?_

He sensed hesitation before his son replied. _I can't tell you._

_I see. You should not be here. If you are taken into custody—_Vader broke off as he heard the cry of a sergeant back in the viewport.

"General Tarkin, sir, a Corellian freighter approaching at high velocity! What should we do, sir?"

Vader's heart sunk. "No clearance was given to our systems," said Tarkin. "Pull it in with a Tractor Beam."

He stepped inside. "I will handle this," he said firmly.

The general looked at him. "Of course, if you would like, Vader," he said unconcernedly. "But do make sure that the girl is executed, won't you?"

Vader clenched his fists. This man thought that he was allowed to address him improperly? Why had his master given this man so much authority? Probably because the man's ruthlessness reminded him of himself, a smaller voice replied in his head. "I will."

"Excellent. Go on, then. I'm busy here," Tarkin said.

The lack of respect infuriated him. Vader lifted a hand—it would be so easy just to snap his neck—a quick flick of his finger—

He stopped himself. Luke was aboard that freighter. He whipped around and strode down the hallway, speeding up as he felt Tarkin's pride and sense of superiority over Darth Vader, heir to the throne. That man would die, and Vader would make sure that he did so gruesomely.


	12. Princess Leia

"My father's on it," said Luke, turning to Han.

"That's the least of my problems," said Han tightly as he fumbled for the controls. "Chewie, what's the problem?" The wookiee responded with a worried roar. "What do you mean, ineffective?" Han shouted. "We're caught in a Tractor beam," Han told Luke. "We're not exactly gonna be able to sneak on board."

"At least they're not shooting at us," said Luke unhappily "Listen, when we get there, we've got to get ourselves arrested. Then we can rescue Leia."

"Why can't we just ask your dad?" Han asked, mystified.

"I can't," said Luke shortly. "And even if I could, she's his prisoner."

Han groaned. "Listen, kid, this entire harebrained scheme"—

"Will get us a nice profit," Luke interrupted.

"And if the cost is my life?" Han asked darkly. "I dunno 'bout this. Why save the princess anyway?"

"Han"—Luke groaned. "Let's just do it, okay?"

The Millenium Falcon flew through the port and alighted in a room bigger than even the main hangar on the _Executor_. His mouth dropped open. "Wow."

"I don't like this, Luke," said Han uneasily.

Luke grabbed his lightsaber off of his hip and slipped it inside his tunic. He would only use it if no other options were necessary—he didn't need to reveal himself as a Force-user on a ship full of people who would gladly give the information to the Emperor. "Unidentified freighter, lower your boarding ramp," came a mechanized female voice. Swallowing nervously, Han did so.

Luke stood. "Let's go."

Han and Chewie stood, Han's hand drifting towards the blaster in its holster. "Okay," he said finally. "Ready, Chewie?"

The wookiee roared to the affirmative and Luke nodded once. He turned and walked down the hall, Han and Chewie following him. They went down the boarding ramp to see several squads of stormtroopers marching in formation. Luke tensed as he saw his father striding towards him, cape billowing out behind him. Two men followed at his flanks.

Vader ignored his son and went straight to the smuggler. So, his son had stayed with the man for three years, instead of leaving to live on some obscure planet? Did that mean Luke had become a smuggler as well? The thought disgusted him. "Tell me exactly what you are doing here, Solo."

Han stared up at him. He knew exactly what the man meant, but still, he was terrified at the sight of the giant. He swallowed nervously. "Uh… your lordship," he began uneasily. "It's a bit complicated"—

"Quiet," Vader snapped. "Is it your practice to include children as part of your crew?"

Luke winced but said nothing, knowing that a "normal" person in this situation would be terrified out of his or her mind.

"Uh, no, not normally," said Han.

"Lord Vader, sir!"

Vader turned to the owner of the voice. "Sir, we've found illegal cartons of spice in a hidden compartment. What shall we do with them?"

Both Han and Luke grimaced.

"So this is the direction in which you have taken your lives," said Vader angrily, speaking to Luke rather than Han.

"It seemed the best option at the time," Luke mumbled, looking at the floor.

"Take them to a holding cell," Vader snapped. "Unharmed."

Three troopers walked up to them and placed binders on their wrists. Four more came for Chewie, whom they were unable to approach. Vader raised a hand and the binders closed over the wookiee's enormous arms with a click. Chewie let out an angry roar.

"Confiscate all illegal substances on the ship," Vader said. "But leave it otherwise alone. Understood?" He didn't wait for an answer, but instead walked off.

He had seen his son for the first time in three years and he had been unable to speak to him. Vader wondered if the smuggler had taken good care of him. Luke had grown taller, certainly, and more experienced. Hardened. Vader wasn't sure if that was a good thing. The question was, why were they here? They already had to be on their way to Alderaan, considering Luke had known about it as soon as the explosion had happened.

But how? Had he received a vision? Did he even practice the Force any more? Vader could have cursed. He knew so little about the goings-on of his son.

"Take it easy," Han snapped as a stormtrooper shoved him inside a cell after Chewie and Luke.

"Who's the prisoner, smuggler?" The stormtrooper retorted.

"Who's got a brain?" Han responded darkly, massaging his shoulder, where he had gotten caught on a bar. He turned to Luke as the door shut with a hiss. "What's the plan?"

Luke stood. "Come on," he said, removing his lightsaber from his tunic and clipping it to his belt.

Han stared at him blankly. "If you haven't noticed, we're in a cell," he said.

Luke rolled his eyes. "Surely you know me better than that," he said irritably, turning and opening the door with a wave of his hand. Han blanched.

"You know I hate it when you do that," he grumbled as Luke slipped out into the hall.

"Would you rather me leave me?" Luke countered. "Be careful. We don't want to get caught, then it'll be suspicious."

Luke stopped suddenly and cocked his head as if listening to a voice far away. "What are you doing?" Han asked, crossing his arms.

"This way," said Luke, turning and stalking down a different corridor.

"I don't like this," Han said, following the seventeen-year-old nonetheless. Chewie roared something and Han whirled on him. "Whaddya mean, you'd trust him over me in this situation?" he asked indignantly.

The wookiee responded something and Han marched off to follow Luke in a huff.

"Be a little less loud," Luke said, annoyed. "We are trying to escape, not trying to let troopers know where we are."

"I know that. You tell him," Han said, jabbing with a finger towards Chewbacca. "He's the one carrying on."

"Quiet, Han," said Luke, peering around a corner. He closed his eyes and felt for Leia's presence. She was close, but she was hurting and in pain, physically and emotionally. Luke went down to her quickly and found the door in front of which her presence was the strongest. Concentrating with a brief second, he reached out with the Force and opened it.

"Coming to kill me?"

Luke glanced at her in surprise and ducked inside. "Not today. We're here to rescue you."

Leia jerked her face up and stared at him, stunned. "What…?"

"Come on, princess, we didn't give up our cargo to have to argue with us," a new voice said. Leia looked over the blond youth's shoulder to see an older man with an irritated look on his face.

She stood. "I don't know what to say, but you two are making a mistake. You don't know Vader. If he finds that I'm gone, he'll track you down"—

"You don't remember me?" Luke said with some surprise. He shrugged. "Oh well. Come on. Trust me, I can get you out of here."

But Leia was staring over his shoulder. "Is that a wookiee?" she asked weakly.

"Yep. His name's Chewbacca," said Luke, walking inside and grabbing her risk. "Come on, Princess Leia."

"I'm scheduled for execution," she said desperately. "You don't understand, if they catch you"—

"For the love of"—Han said, stomping in and picking her bodily up. "We're here to rescue you, princess, whether you want to be or not."

"Put me down!" she said in surprise. "I can quite handle myself, thank you!" Han obeyed.

"Have you an extra blaster?" she inquired with as much dignity as she could muster.

Luke nodded and gave her the one strapped to his thigh. He had used the Force to make the stormtroopers forget about it. "Here."

"But you don't have a weapon," she said in surprise.

"He's fine," said Han shortly. "Let's go, all right? Pretty soon they'll figure out that we escaped, and I'd like to be far away when that happens."

Leia looked as though she was about to protest but she steeled herself. "Okay. Let's go," she said firmly.

Luke grinned. "All right."

They ran down to the main hallway and Luke used the Force to dull their senses. "Quick," he said, motioning with a hand for them to forward. Han used to his powers, did so and Leia followed him dubiously, her hand on her blaster all the while.

Once they were out in the hallway. "How...?"

"I'll answer your questions later," he said quickly. "Come on."

Deciding to trust him for the moment, Leia followed him as he took off running down a deserted hallway. "Where are we going?" she panted after a while.

"The hangar," said Han, running beside her. "He always knows the fastest way there!"

"Oh, goodness! Oh, Mistress Leia!"

Leia's mouth dropped open as C-3PO and R2-D2 walked and rolled around the corner. "Threepio! What are you doing here?"

"You know them?" Han asked in surprise.

"Yes!" said Leia excitedly.

"Mistress Leia, R2 seemed to think that you were in danger, so he set out to find you. I had to follow him, of course," said Threepio prissily. "I do hope you're not angry with him."

"Absolutely not! Hurry, come with us," Leia urged. The astromech and the protocol droid fell into step, Luke and Han exchanging bewildered glances.

"Are you sure, Princess?" Han asked dubiously. "I really don't think the golden one has been programmed for a blaster."

"A blaster, oh my! Mistress Leia, are we going into battle?" Threepio exclaimed nervously.

"No, Threepio." Leia turned to Han. "These droids are essential," she explained. "Once we get to your ship, I'll explain everything."

"HEY! YOU!"

The party whipped around to see ten stormtroopers running towards them. Han and Leia raised their blasters and Luke swore softly. "Go!" he shouted to Han, leaping over their heads and landing between them and the troopers. He ignited his lightsaber just as the troopers began to fire.

Leia stared at him as he blocked every bolt with the saber, until Han grabbed her arm. "He can take care of himself! Trust me!" They ran down a perpendicular hall and soon after, Luke followed them, the lightsaber at his belt once more.

"That way!" Luke told them, pointing down another hallway. They obeyed without questioning and miraculously found themselves entering the hanger just as the main shield opened for a squadron of TIE fighters. "Quick!" Luke shouted, feeling his father's presence nearby.

He reached out with a tendril of the Force and lowered the ramp and started up the engines. Leia, Han, and Chewie jumped inside and Luke turned to see his father enter the hangar. A wave of sorrow hit him. He called out, _Come with me, Father!_

He saw his father stop, as though surprised. _I cannot. Go, my son, and please don't get killed._

Luke lifted a hand to give a half-hearted wave. A second later, he disappeared into the belly of the ship with the two droids and it lifted into the air, Han piloting it expertly through the hatch. Chewie set a quick course for hyperspace and they disappeared, leaving his father behind.

Luke slumped in his chair. He had finally gotten to see his father, and had had to deceive him. Had he betrayed him by rescuing Leia?

"Thank you," the one in question said, standing in front of Luke, her dress ruffled. She held out a hand. "I appreciate your kindness and selflessness. You are a true Jedi Knight."

"Luke? Luke's no Jedi," Had said with a laugh in the doorway.

Leia's jaw dropped open as she finally recognized the boy that she had been almost 3 ½ years ago. "Luke _Vader_?"

Luke shrugged. "More or less."

Her gaze immediately narrowed, and then widened in realization. "He didn't kill you?"

Luke stared at her in surprise. "What?"

"Vader! He didn't kill you! I learned from my contact on the_ Executor_ that you had disappeared!" she breathed. "I can't believe it!"

"Why would my father kill me?" Luke asked, truly bewildered.

"Because he's a heartless monster," she said coldly.

Luke stood angrily. "Don't talk that way about my father."

Leia bit her lip. "He allowed Alderaan to be destroyed, and he tortured me! And he killed my father! I think I can call him whatever I well please!"

"I'm sorry about your father," said Luke sincerely. "I felt badly about that. But my father couldn't do anything about Alderaan."

"Of course he could have," she said scathingly. "No matter what you did for me, I'll never forget that."

Luke said nothing for a few moments. "You know, I'm not my father," he said finally, standing. "I am sorry about everything. I came here to try and stop Alderaan from being destroyed, and I was too late. I'm sorry. But I can neither control my father nor change the past." With that, he turned and returned to his own room, leaving Leia in the lounge, ashamed of herself.

"Excuse me, Mistress Leia?"

Leia looked up to see C-3PO. "Yes, Threepio?" she asked wearily.

"I'm afraid that Sir Luke is upset," the droid offered helpfully.

"I'm aware," she said heavily, holding her head in her hands. She stood. "Stay here, Threepio," she commanded, and stepped inside the cockpit. "Excuse me, sir… I don't think we've been formally introduced."

Han turned around. "Hey, Princess," he said off-handedly.

"My name is Leia Organa," she said softly. "I am a princess of a planet that no longer exists."

"Gonna blame that on the kid, too?" Han asked bitterly, turning in his chair to view Leia more easily. "You know, it's not like I'm a huge fan of his dad either, but he's a good kid. And his father saved his and mine and Chewie's lives."

"I apologize"—Leia began stiffly, but he stopped her, raising a hand.

"No, lemme finish," he said. "Luke hates what his dad does, but he loves him. If you insult Vader, he takes it personal. But he's a good person, regardless of his father. You gotta remember that. He had nothin' to do with Alderaan or your dad's death."

Leia looked properly abashed. "I know, you're right," she said at last. "I let my anger overcome my manners."

"Anyway," Han continued. "I'm Han Solo from Corellia, and this is my first mate, Chewie."

"Nice to meet you both," said Leia humbly.

"Now I think that you oughta go and talk to him," Han said. "He's in the first door on the left." He turned around to view the controls and left Leia standing in the doorjamb. After a minute, she decided that he was right and left, walking down the hall. After a second of hesitation, she lifted her hand to knock on the door, but it slid open before she had a chance.

"It bugs Han when I do that," Luke's soft voice came from within. "Come in."

Leia stepped inside the small room and saw Luke sitting on his bed, legs crossed. His eyes were closed. "I'm sorry, am I intruding…?"

He opened his eyes. "No," he said. "I was meditating."

Leia raised her eyebrows. "Meditating?"

He nodded. "It's essential for a Force-user," he explained. "It helps to center yourself and to build your connection with the Force." He glanced at her. "Who taught you to create those shields?"

Leia stared at him, mystified. "I'm sorry, what shields?"

Now he looked confused. "When I first met you, your mind was guarded," he said. "And it still is. You're really strong in the Force, so I was just wondering who trained you."

"No one trained me," she said in surprise. "And I don't think that I'm very strong in the Force…"

"Yes you are," Luke persisted. "Trust me."

"Oh," said Leia uncomfortably. "Well… Luke…"

"Don't worry about it," said Luke easily. "I… overreact when it comes to my father. You have every right to be angry with him."

Leia clasped her hands together. "But not with you," she said gently. "I apologize for my conduct. It was entirely inappropriate, especially after you had just saved my life."

He shrugged. "Don't worry about it," he repeated. He grinned. "And by the way, my name is Luke Skywalker."

"Not Vader?"

"No. That'd raise some eyebrows, wouldn't it?" he said with a laugh. "I'm supposed to be dead, so I can't afford to attract any questions."

"Why are you supposed to be dead?" she asked uneasily.

"The Emperor ordered my father to kill me," Luke said darkly. "I don't know why." Leia grew decidedly uncomfortable with the mention of his father and so he changed the subject. "Do you have anywhere to go? I mean, I don't think that you can return to Coruscant…"

"No," she said heavily. "But, Luke…" she glanced at him warily. "I _am _a Rebel," she said, as though that clarified everything,

"So?"

"I would go to the Rebel base," she said delicately. "And you…"

"What?"

"You're an Imperial," she said finally. "I couldn't possibly let you know where the base is."

"I am not an Imperial," he said, as though shocked she had even thought such a thing. "I _hate _the Emperor. I hate him more than anyone you will ever meet."

"What?" Leia was stunned.

"Well, he tried to have me killed, Leia," Luke said wryly. He visage darkened. "And I have other reasons."

"Like what?"

Luke bit his lip. "It's complicated," he said shortly. There was no way he wanted to recount the tale of just what the Emperor had done to his father, and he doubted if it would generate any sympathy from the girl. "Just suffice it to say… I hate him. I've made it my life's goal to get rid of him, but…" He gestured around his surroundings. "What am I supposed to do? I'm a seventeen-year-old teenager, and a wanted one at that. I'm a half-trained Force user that doesn't know how to be the Jedi that he is supposedly destined to be."

"Come with me, then," she said finally. "I believe you. We just won't tell anyone about your father."

His gaze lit up. "You mean, join the Rebellion?"

She grinned. "Yes. I can't believe I'm saying this to Darth Vader's son, but yes, I think the Rebellion could use you."

"Would that work? To just… conveniently forget to mention that I'm third in line for the Imperial throne?" Luke asked doubtfully. "I won't fight my father under any circumstances, Leia. That's bound to raise suspicion."

"We'll work that out. We'll just tell Mon Mothma the truth, and she can help us," said Leia confidently. She stood and held out a hand to formally shake Luke's. He did so, grinning. "I welcome you to the Rebellion, Luke Skywalker."

"Thanks," he said.

She turned. "I'll go and tell Han the coordinates."

"What do you mean, Organa escaped?" Tarkin snapped angrily. "I thought you were supposed to have her under guard!"

"She was under guard," said Vader tightly. "She somehow managed to escape in the freighter that was brought to the ship with the Tractor beam you ordered, Tarkin."

"That would be General Tarkin, Vader," said the man angrily. "How?"

"I am sure that she offered money to the smugglers," said Vader coldly.

"The smugglers that you were supposed to deal with," Tarkin spat. "The Emperor won't be pleased with your failure, Vader. I intend to report it to him as soon as our next contact."

"Excuse me, General Tarkin, Lord Vader"—

They turned to see a messenger waiting, obviously terrified out of his mind. "What?" Vader asked shortly.

"We've just been informed, sirs, that the Emperor expects to hear from you if the Death Star is operational."

"Of course," said Tarkin smoothly. "Patch him in, boy."

The boy gave a quick little bow a frightened look to Vader—who was practically oozing rage—before retreating. "I'm sure you'll find some way to explain it to His Majesty, Vader," Tarkin said.

"_What_!"

Luke looked at Leia nervously. "I think it's for the best, Han," he said. "This way I can actually do something."

"Kid, are you _out of your mind_?" Han said in utter disbelief. "They'll shoot you on sight! You think they're going to just welcome you with open arms?"

"We're not going to tell them who he is," Leia said calmly.

"That doesn't matter! I can't let you do it, Luke," said Han firmly, turning to the blond. "We can drop the Princess off and then go back to our route. Just like old times."

"But… I have to save my father, Han," Luke said imploringly. Leia raised her eyebrows. "I have to try and get rid of the Emperor. This is the only way," said Luke.

"Whaddya mean, 'save your father?'" Han snorted. "Kid, your dad's got it covered, I think. I'm pretty sure he can take care of himself."

Luke gritted his teeth. "You don't understand," he said tightly.

Han groaned. "All right, kid, the Princess has got you all fired up to go be a Rebel, that's fine, but you should hear my point of view."

"Han…"

"No, listen," Han insisted. "What I see is some kid going off to risk his life in a fight no one can't win to try and resurrect his dad from a guy, who… let's face it, kid, he's not really the type to teach you how to throw a ball." Han stopped to see how Luke was taking it. Satisfied, he continued. "He wants you to be safe. Goin' off to play the hero on the _opposite _side isn't what he's got in mind, I think."

Luke slumped. "You don't get it, Han. It's the only way he can come back into the light. I've got to do this."

After a moment, Han finally sighed. "So I can't convince you otherwise, kid?"

Luke shook his head, and the smuggler rubbed his temple. "All right."

"Luke, we should construct your past," said Leia gently. "What do you want to tell anyone who asks?"

"Tell them I was a farmboy on Tatooine," said Luke quietly. "Tell them that my guardians were killed by Imperials and I decided to become a Rebel by rescuing you."

"That's the first time you've admitted it," said Leia with a smile. "You did rescue me."

"My father let us go," said Luke softly. "If he had really minded, he would have stopped us himself."

Leia sighed. "What about your lightsaber? And the fact that you're training to be a Jedi?"

Luke snorted. "How can I be training without a trainer?"

"You're still going to become one," Leia said reassuringly.

Luke shrugged. "My father was a Jedi in the Clone Wars. That's good enough." He stood. "I'm going to meditate," he told them, leaving and heading to his room. Leia made to follow him, sensing that he was upset, but Han stopped her.

"Don't bother him when he goes off to meditate," he advised her with a forced smile. "Gets all huffy, says the Force goes out of whack if you interrupt him."

"He told me that I'm Force-sensitive," said Leia, frowning. She sat down next to Han.

"I wouldn't know, Princess," said Han airily. "I don't believe in any of that anyway. It's Luke's thing, not mine."

"Lord Sidious," Vader said with a small bow as the holo of the Emperor was projected in front of himself and Tarkin, who glanced sidelong at the massive Sith. Only Vader called the Emperor by that name, and Tarkin knew it was to remind him of the fact that he was the Sith, and the next in line for the Imperial throne.

"Ah, my friend," came the croak of the Emperor. Tarkin carefully suppressed the shudder. "Tell me… Is my Death Star operational?"

"It is, Lord," said Vader. "General Tarkin saw fit to test its weapons upon the world of Alderaan." His voice showed no hint of his disgust of the act.

"Really…" said the Emperor slowly. "Excellent. This will crush the petty Rebellion once and for all. And what of the Death Star plans?"

"I believe that they are located inside a droid that was in the company of Senator Organa at the time of her capture, Lord Sidious," Vader said quickly. "I have it in my custody."

"Good, my friend," said the Emperor, completely ignoring the presence of Tarkin. "And what of the girl? Has she been executed?"

"No, my lord," said Vader immediately. "A smuggler's freighter was brought to the station and its crew managed to help her to escape."

The Emperor was silent for a moment. "This displeases me," he said finally. "But it is of no consequence. Soon the girl and her followers will be destroyed."

"Yes, my lord."

The Emperor was silent for a moment. "See to it that the Rebel base is found," he said finally. "And then send the Death Star into orbit."

"Yes, my lord."

The transmission was cut and Vader resisted the urge to smirk as he felt Tarkin's resentment and injured pride. "I will inform you when the Rebel base is found," Vader said blandly. "General Tarkin."

"Of course," said Tarkin tightly. "I look forward to it, Lord Vader."

Vader returned to his workroom, intending to complete the removal of the Death Star plans from Artoo, but he froze when he entered the room.

They were gone.

Silently, he swore to himself. He should have known—Artoo had no qualms about disobeying orders if they obstructed a mission. He clenched his hands. That meant they were with the Princess.

And Luke. He released all his anger at the thought of his son. Luke was safe, and had evaded the Emperor's notice once more.

"Where are we?" asked Luke as they descended onto a planet that he had never seen. "Yavin IV," said Leia. "It is our temporary base. We've been safe here from the Empire for some time," she explained.

Luke reached for the Force to calm his shaky nerves as they grew nearer to the base. Leia noticed and smiled. "You'll be fine, Luke. As soon as we tell them that you saved me, you'll be fine."

"It's not just them I'm worried about," Luke admitted weakly.

An image of Vader looming over her during her interrogation slipped into Leia's mind and she bit it back sharply. "I understand," she said gently.

Luke sighed. "Go on," he told her ruefully. Leia nodded and walked forward to speak into the outputter. "Yavin Base, this is Senator Leia Organa aboard the Millenium Falcon. I request an immediate meeting with Lady Mothma."

"Welcome back, Senator Organa," came a male voice over the transmitter. "You're set for landing pad 9."

Luke shut his eyes tightly as Leia directed Han to the correct spot. He bit his lip as the ship touched down and jerked away when he felt Leia's hand on his shoulder. He glanced up. "Come on, Luke," she said.

Luke stood to face Han. "Han, thanks for everything," he began slowly. "Once this is all over…" he let his words trail off.

Han grinned. "What're you talkin' about, kid? You think I'm gonna jus' let these Rebels have their way with ya?" He shook his head. "I'm stickin' around to watch your back."

Luke's jaw dropped open. "You're going to join"—

"No," Han said quickly. "No way. I'm not about to go risk my neck for some crazy cause," he said. "But I am gonna make sure you don't kill yourself."

Luke beamed. "Thanks."

Han smiled nervously. "Don' thank me. I'm jus' scared of what your dad'll do to me if you get hurt," he explained.

Luke frowned. "What?"

"Nevermind," said Han easily. "No more talk of your dad from here on out," he said firmly.

"Let's go," said Leia with a smile.

"It is good news to hear that you are safe, Princess Leia," said Mon Mothma gently. "I am so sorry to hear of Alderaan. It seems that the Empire's atrocities continue to grow."

Leia inclined her head. "Thank you," she said. Beside her, Luke winced almost imperceptibly.

"Please, introduce me to your rescuer," said Mothma, turning to Luke.

Leia smiled. "This is Luke Skywalker, Jedi Knight."

Mothma paled. "A Jedi!"

"Training to be one, at least," said Luke uncomfortably and shooting a look towards Leia. "It's an honor to meet you, Lady Mothma."

"I extend you the gratitude of the Alliance for your efforts in saving the Princess, Jedi Skywalker," said Mothma.

"You're welcome, though I had a minimal effort in doing so," Luke responded, glad that his father's eloquency had rubbed off on him at least a little. He swallowed. "I would like to join the Rebellion myself, actually."

"That is good news," said Mothma warmly. "We welcome you heartily."

"But there is a slight complication," Leia said nervously. "I'd like you to keep an open mind, Mon."

Mothma furrowed her brow. "What's the problem?"

Luke bit his lip. "I have… certain connections to the Empire," he said uneasily.

Mothma frowned. "Many of the Alliance members have family members who are officers. That is not a problem."

Luke looked to Leia for help. "Mon… Luke desires to keep this one completely silent," she said slowly.

"What is it? Who is it?"

"My father…" Luke began apprehensively. "He's kind of high up."

Mothma waited for him to continue. She folded her hands on the desk, staring impassively at the two young people in front of her.

Leia sighed and made eye contact briefly. "Don't take this the wrong way, Mon."

"What do you mean?" Mothma's gaze narrowed. "Who is he?"

Luke stared at his hands and refused to say anything. Leia opened her mouth but shut it after a moment. "It's a bit difficult to explain, really…"

"Will all of you stop hedging?" Han finally exclaimed, exasperated. He strode up from the shadows. He faced Mon Mothma. "The kid's dad is Darth Vader."


	13. The Rebel Alliance

Mon Mothma was silent for several minutes. "Excuse me?" she said finally, her voice low and no-nonsense.

Luke and Leia exchanged glances. "Mon…" Leia began uneasily.

"You are telling me that you have brought the child of Darth Vader _here_ to join the Rebel Alliance? Are you out of your mind, Princess Leia?" Mothma was clearly furious. She turned to Luke. "And you think that you will be welcomed, when your _father _is the number two enemy of the Alliance?"

"Please, just here me out"—Luke began, but she cut him off.

"No. Absolutely not. Vader is a murdering beast that deserves to die. I will not accept the supposed support of his child. It's likely you're a spy to begin with, so consider yourself lucky that I do not order you killed on the spot," Mothma said angrily. "Leia, I'm very disappointed in you."

Luke stood up sharply. "I am _not _my father, and I do not agree with his practices, but you _will not _insult him in front of me." Next to him, Han winced. "I am here for one purpose and one purpose only: to join the Alliance. If you think my father would be stupid enough to use his _son _as a spy, that makes you far more of an idiot than he. If you think that my father would be _pleased _to hear that his son is joining the _opposite side_, you are sorely mistaken."

Mothma stared at him for a moment. "Then prove your loyalty," she said grandly. "If you believe in the Alliance, submit to a hearing by the members of the High Command."

"Very well," said Luke, bowing slightly. "As you wish."

Mothma looked slightly surprised at his acquiescence but she nodded stiffly in return. "Princess Leia, see to it that he is under guard at all times. As for the Death Star plans… They will be addressed after this matter is solved."

"Of course," said Leia, standing. "Come on, Luke," she said softly.

Luke nodded sharply and turned, stalking out of the room. Han followed him quickly and rested a hand on his shoulder. "Kid, calm down," he said gently.

Luke stared at him, his eyes blazing. "What?"

"If you're gonna join this crackpot fest, kid, you've gotta get your temper under control," Han told him. "Like it or not, people hate your dad. I bet half of 'em joined because of him. They're gonna insult him. If you start attacking them, people will find out who you are and go after you back."

Luke let out a heavy breath and hung his head. "You're right," he mumbled.

"I know."

"But they don't understand," Luke said with a pained look. "They don't understand anything!"

"That doesn't change what they think, kid," said Han wisely. "I know for a fact you won't tell 'em what 'they don't understand,' 'cause you've never told me or Chewie. So you gotta be patient. If you're so sure your dad ain't as bad a guy as they think, let'em find out when he proves he isn't."

Luke sighed. "Okay."

"Luke?" He looked up to see Leia waiting for him down the hall.

"I'm coming," he said heavily. Han flung an arm around his shoulder and said, "I'll come with ya, kid. Into the hearing too, considerin' I gotta protect you," he said with a roguish grin.

Luke rolled his eyes. "Let's count the number of times that you did anything besides get us into trouble."

"No need," said Han airily. "Come on."

Luke was bombarded by the amount of emotions emitted from the various members of the High Command as he was marched inside. Fear, anger, curiosity…hate. He bit his lip. He walked to the center of the room to face Mon Mothma, whose visage was less than friendly.

"Luke Skywalker," she said harshly. "This is a trial to see the manner of your loyalties to the Alliance. Do you concur that your name is as such?"

"Yes," Luke said, clasping his hands behind his back and spreading his legs slightly. He had adopted that pose during his time with his father, and hoped they didn't notice.

"Very well," said Mothma. "And do you confirm that your father is Darth Vader, Lord of the Sith?"

"Yes," Luke repeated, ignoring the sudden intake of breath from the members of the High Command. He steeled himself and reached out for the calm that was the Force, beating back the anxiety and anger.

"And how do you expect the Alliance to believe that you are loyal?" Mothma questioned harshly.

"Why should I not be?" Luke countered. "My death warrant has been signed by the Emperor himself. That's a good enough reason to hate him, isn't it?"

"But is it enough to insure that your loyalty lies with the Alliance rather than the Empire? If I'm not mistaken, you are third in line for the Imperial Throne. One would think that you would prefer to keep the Empire alive until then," said Mothma coolly.

"I am a Jedi in training," said Luke brazenly. "I do not believe that there is any place for a Jedi or Sith in politics, and I intend to do my best to insure that involvement is stopped."

"A Jedi?" Mothma asked doubtfully.

"Then he admits that he has Vader's powers!" A Mon Calamari interrupted. "He's dangerous!"

"Do you?" Mothma inquired.

"Yes," said Luke, knowing that he couldn't begin this new life by lies. "I am capable of some of the things of which my father is also capable, but he is far more trained than I am."

"If you're really loyal to the Alliance," said a cunning Cerean, "then tell us. What are Darth Vader's weaknesses? How can we defeat him?"

Luke tensed and clenched his hands behind his back, trying desperately to release the anger into the Force like Obi-Wan had told him to do. "If I am not mistaken, the Empire is not made up of one man," he said stiffly.

"One man?" another scoffed. "Darth Vader is no man. He is a monster. He has murdered thousands."

"And how many men have you killed, General Rieekan?" Luke returned, using a subtle mind probe to discover the man's identity. "How many have you condemned, when you give your orders to attack?"

"I don't believe this!" said the man angrily. "He defends his father!"

"Darth Vader is the figurehead of the Empire, Skywalker," said Mothma. "He _is _our enemy. To join the Alliance, he must be yours as well."

"My enemy is his cause," said Luke tightly. "And I refuse to release private information to be used to destroy him," he added.

"Excuse me," said Leia, walking up to Luke's side. She gave him a reassuring glance. "Luke Skywalker rescued me from certain death as well as recovering the Death Star plans. I do not think those are actions are indicative of a traitor."

"We cannot be sure," said Mothma, folding her hands.

"Give him a chance," Leia implored. "Give him one chance to prove himself."

Mothma was silent for a moment. "Very well," she said at last. "Have you any skills, Skywalker?"

"I am a pilot," he told her. "Trained by the Imperial Navy and by my father."

There were whistles of surprise among the Command. "Then you shall become an X-Wing fighter pilot," Mothma said at last. "But at any time, we reserve the right to suspend you."

"Of course," said Luke coolly.

"Dismissed," Mothma said.

Once outside, Han laid a supportive hand on Luke's shoulders. The youth was far more affected by the rejection of the High Command than he had shown himself to be in the room. He looked up. "Maybe you were right," he said miserably.

"Probably," Han agreed. "But they accepted you, kid. That's good news, right?"

"They want to use me to kill my father, Han," Luke responded coldly. "I really _am _betraying him."

"Nah, I don't see it that way," said Han easily. "You're tryin' to save him, whatever that means. And when you do, neither of ya will see it as betrayal."

"_When _I do?" Luke asked hollowly. "How do I even know that I can?"

"Luke," said Leia gently. "Come on. I'll introduce you to your squadron."

"_Skywalker_? Luke Skywalker?"

Luke whipped around to see the face of someone he hadn't seen in years. His face drained of all color. "_Biggs_?"

The pilot beamed. "I can't believe it!" he said, running over and enveloping Luke in a hug. "I thought you were dead! We all did!"

"I ran away," Luke said, saying the first thing that came to mind.

"After Owen and Beru got killed?" Biggs asked sympathetically. "I understand. Where've you been, buddy?"

"I went to Imperial Flight School," Luke said, which was mostly the truth.

"Really? Me too! What ship were ya on, buddy?" Biggs questioned.

"The _Executor_," said Luke. "But I ran away and became a smuggler," he said with a forced grin. He nodded towards Han. "This is Han Solo."

Biggs shook Han's hand. "I'm Biggs Darklighter," he said. He turned to Luke. "Are you serious? You were on the _Executor_?"

Luke nodded.

"Wow. Only the best go there," he said with a grin. "Nice job. Actually, we've got another one who's from the _Executor_."

"Really?" Luke asked, interested. "Who?"

"Terzé Ba'kuun," said Biggs. He scratched his head. "Came here around three years ago. Him and Lady Amidala."

"Speaking of whom," said Leia with a bright smile. "I'm going to go and speak to her. Is she in her rooms, Biggs?"

Biggs nodded. "Who is she?" Luke asked, confused.

"My birth mother," Leia explained, her eyes lighting up. "We all thought she was dead for the longest time, but it turns out that she went into hiding without telling anyone."

"Wow," said Luke, surprised.

"She's amazing," said Leia fondly. "Anyway, Luke… You'll be fine here?"

He nodded and she went off, leaving the three pilots. "I can't believe you're here, Skywalker," said Biggs again. "Come on, you'll have to meet the guys."

"This is our only chance," said Mothma seriously to the assembled pilots. Her gaze rested on Luke Skywalker, who seemed troubled. Could she trust him? And why did the name "Skywalker" seem so familiar to her?

"Good luck," said Mothma. "You're dismissed."

Luke stood with Biggs at his side and furrowed his brow. His father was on the Death Star, and their mission was to destroy it. How could he even think of such a thing?

He walked into the hangar to see Artoo doing something to his X-Wing. "What are you doing, Artoo?" he asked quietly, sitting on a small toolbox by the astromech, which responded in a flurry of beeps. He reached for a hydrospanner and helped the droid get the part into place. With a sigh, he set it down again. Normally, working with his hands calmed him down, but this time the storm within him refused to abate.

After the Death Star moved into orbit of Yavin IV, they would attack.

His father might die.

Luke gritted his teeth. He wouldn't allow it to happen, he swore silently.

"Kid?"

Luke looked up to see Han standing awkwardly with his hands in his pockets. "What's going on?"

"Well… Chewie and I…" Han began uneasily. "We've still got that load to deliver," he said in a rush.

Luke stood slowly, his heart heavy. "You're leaving?"

"Look, kid, I know that I promised to take care of you, and everything, but…" Han lifted his hands into the air. "I'm no Rebel. I can't get involved."

"Han… You could give up smuggling," Luke offered. "You could stay here."

"Me?" he snorted. "No way, kid."

"Han…" Luke began. "Why not?"

The smuggler scratched his head. "Just, don't get killed, okay? Your dad'll hunt me down personally," he said with a wry grin. "Take care of yourself, okay?"

Sighing, Luke stood and embraced the Corellian. "You too."

With a grin, Han went off and shouted to Chewie, "Come on, furball. We've gotta get this show on the road." Chewie roared something and looked towards Luke. "No, the kid's staying here," said Han irritably. "Let's go."

After the Millenium Falcon took off, Luke stared at the place it had been for several minutes until he felt the presence of Leia nearby. He turned to see her leading a veiled woman towards him. Luke felt a strange familiarity for the woman but shook it off, wiping his greasy hands with a rag and climbing up onto the platform.

"Han left?" Leia asked, perturbed.

Luke nodded. "I can't blame him. He… This isn't really this thing."

Leia frowned sadly before breaking into a smile. "Luke, this is my mother, Lady Amidala. Mother, this is Luke Skywalker."

The woman held out a hand that Luke kissed gently. "It's an honor, ma'am."

"The honor is mine," she responded, and Luke caught a wave of sadness and excitement from her before she carefully repressed it. "I asked Leia to meet you. I hope you don't mind."

"Not at all," said Luke.

"I would like to thank you—very much—for what you did on the Death Star," said Amidala humbly. "I'm very grateful."

Luke shrugged uncomfortably. "Don't worry about it."

"If I may ask, Mr. Skywalker," said Amidala hesitantly. "Was your father Anakin Skywalker?"

Luke stared at the woman's veiled face in surprise. How did she know his father's name? At least, what his name used to be? "Yes," he said slowly. "I'm surprised that you know that," he continued frankly.

The woman held her hands together tightly. "I… knew him at one time," she said faintly. "It's an honor, again," she said, before turning back to Leia. "I'm feeling a bit chilled, darling," she said. "I'm going to return to my rooms."

"Of course," said Leia concernedly. "Mother, do you need anything?"

"No, no, I'm fine," she said.

Leia glanced over Luke's shoulder. "Threepio!" she called, and the golden droid hobbled into view. "Yes, Mistress Leia?"

"Threepio, will you escort my mother back to her rooms?" she asked.

"Now, sweetheart, I'm quite able," said Amidala with a laugh.

"I know," said Leia with a smile. "I'm sending him to make sure you don't jump into a ship and join the boys."

"You know me too well," said Amidala. "I'm afraid I'm too old for that, dear," she said. "Come, Threepio. You can tell me a story while we walk."

After a few moments, Leia and Luke were left behind. "She doesn't know who your father is," said Leia after a minute. "I've told no one."

"Thanks," Luke said, staring at Artoo as the droid worked.

"I'm sorry Han left," said Leia. "He was important to you."

"Yeah," said Luke with a sigh. "I'm going to go to my room. I'll see you later, okay?"

"Lady Amidala?"

Amidala turned to see Terzé Ba'kuun emerge from a hallway as she walked quickly to her rooms. She sighed. "Hello, my friend."

"Are you all right?" The helmeted man asked. "You had nearly left C-3PO behind."

"I'm fine," she said with a sigh. "It's just… I saw him," she said uneasily. "Come, let's talk in my room."

Terzé followed her down the hall. "What's this about?" he asked finally once they were inside her room.

"I… asked Leia to meet him," she said quietly. "He's so handsome… Terzé, it was as if I was staring at his father, albeit younger and shorter," she said fondly, before her tone turned to pain. "I can't bear it."

"You can't tell him," said Terzé firmly. "You know that you cannot."

"What am I supposed to do? Just let my child go off to risk his life?" Amidala cried. She lifted her veil and rubbed her eyes. "I asked him about Anakin," she said dully. "He said that he knew that he was his father."

Terzé bit back the guilt that threatened at the corners of his mind. "He has smuggled with Han Solo since Vader let him go."

"I still don't understand that," Amidala admitted. "Why would Vader let him go, after training him? It doesn't make sense. Surely he would have killed him instead, because he's a danger if he continues to learn."

"I don't know," Terzé said uncomfortably. "But you can't have too much contact, Lady Amidala. Things will grow suspicious."

"I know," she said unhappily. "It's just… I want so badly to have my entire family at my side," she said. "Leia is… Leia is wonderful, but Luke… He's in pain. He's confused."

"How do you know?"

"I'm his mother," said Amidala forcefully. "I know."

"I'm flying with him tomorrow," said Terzé at last. "I'll do my best to make sure he's all right."

"I can't ask that of you, Terzé," said Amidala, aghast. "You've done so much already!"

He touched her hand slightly. "I want him to live as much as you do, Lady Amidala," he said gently. He stood. "I'm going to go get ready," he said at last.

"Be careful, Terzé," said Amidala. "Your mother would be proud."

Terzé's tensed. "Thank you," he said, his voice choked. He turned and strode swiftly out of the room, leaving Amidala alone.

"Take care of yourself," Leia said softly as Luke readied himself to climb into the cockpit. He leaned against the hull.

"Thanks," he told her, and turned to give her a hug. His eyes were haunted. "Leia, if I…"

"Whatever happens is the will of the Force," Leia said calmly. "Don't worry."

He stared at her for a moment before biting his lip and nodding. "I'll come back," he promised her.

"I know," said Leia. "My mother wishes you good luck."

Luke frowned. "Tell her thank you," he said at last. "Did she tell you how she knew Anakin Skywalker?"

"No," said Leia slowly. "Luke, is that really who Vader is?"

Luke hesitated before answering. "Yes, but… Not really," he said, trying to explain the situation to the girl. "He used to be, at any rate. Now… it's like Anakin is buried, or something."

"He must be buried pretty far," said Leia. "I did some research on him. There are very few files, and all it says is that he was a skilled Jedi Knight and widely regarded as the best pilot in the Galaxy. It also says that Vader killed him."

"Probably an Imperial cover-up," Luke said, snorting.

"But… what if it's not? What if Vader _did _kill him, and assumed his identity just to lure you in?"

Luke stared at her for a moment. "Leia…" he began. "That's not possible."

"How can you know?"

"Trust me," he said after a moment. "I know."

"But how?"

"If he didn't care about me," Luke started. "He wouldn't have saved me in the first place. And plus, my aunt and uncle knew who he was. They're the ones who told him that I was his son," he explained. "And then… if I wasn't his son, why would he have saved me from the Emperor?"

Leia bit her lip. "I guess you're right," she said finally. She kissed his forehead chastely. "Be careful."

"I will," said Luke, climbing up into his X-Wing. "You too."

_She was sliding down._

_She lay on a blistering slope, her arms and legs screaming in pain. Padmé cried out in agony as her legs—what was left of her legs?—caught fire. She saw a hazy figure above her and couldn't tell who it was because of the smoke. _

_The flames spread up her body, searing her skin and crawling over her face, turning her hair to ash. She screamed again. "I HATE YOU!" she cried out in desperation, the fumes entering her lungs and burning the alveoli, destroying the cells. She tried desperately to inhale air as she tried to claw up the side of the slope…_

Amidala woke up with a start, shivering. Despite the heat of the dream, she was freezing. She reached over for a rough blanket and wrapped it around her shoulders.

The same dream.

She had dreamt the same dream over and over since the Rebels had made Yavin IV their base. What did it mean? Was it a sign of the future? Who did she hate that she would fight him on the banks of fire? Who hated her so much that he would leave her to burn?

_Vader_.

The answer came instantly. Of course it was him—he had killed Anakin and he had tortured Leia and he had tried to steal Anakin's son and turn him to the Dark Side. It only made sense that he would want to kill Anakin's wife as well. Amidala sighed. How she missed him… The events of the night the twins were born were hazy, but she had forgiven Anakin for what he had done. She was sure that he had realized his actions and had tried to fight off Vader and Palpatine. He had died a hero. She knew it.

Luke tried desperately to reach out to the Force, but the calm eluded him. For all he knew, it would be his torpedoes that would spell the death of all the people aboard the Death Star.

His father was one of them.

His mind argued that the Death Star had to be destroyed, both so it would never commit such an atrocity like Alderaan and so the Rebellion would survive another day. His heart argued that he might be his father's murderer.

The X-Wings swooped around and over the comms, Luke heard several swears of exclamation as the sight of the massive superstructure came into view. "Keep calm, boys," said one of the others. "We can do this."

"All right, everyone," came Biggs' voice over the commlink, "Let's get into formation."

"Open S-Foils," said another.

Luke followed the orders as if on autopilot himself. With every fuel cell burned, he was drawing nearer to his father's potential death. How could he do this? How could he enter into battle against his own father?

A knot of TIEs emerging from the giant station served to jerk him back into the present and to instill another guilt in him—what if one of those pilots was Darmic? Jisk? Vaskall? Lang?

_Focus on the present, Luke. Do your duty._

Luke would have jumped out of skin had he not been in the cockpit. That certainly hadn't been his father! Who was it?

_Have you forgotten Obi-Wan Kenobi so easily, young one?_

Luke let out a sigh. _Obi-Wan. I didn't know that you could talk like this also._

_Be calm, young one. Your fear and guilt lead you to the Dark Side._

_I understand_, Luke returned, readjusting his grip on the controls and reaching out for the Force to keep him centered. He bit his lip. He _would _do his duty.

"Lord Vader! There are X-Wings approaching!"

Vader whipped around and cast a tendril over the Force over the approaching ships and recoiled in surprise when he found his son one of the pilots. His son had joined Rebels? That shocked him more than he cared to admit. "Ready my ship, captain," he said to the man who had given him the message. "Immediately."

"Yes, Lord Vader," said the man quickly, turning and returning quickly to a supervision post. Vader strode down the corridor. He didn't know what Luke was doing, but he would insure that his flew away from this conflict alive. Walking down to his private hangar, he jerked up his hand to indicate to his two wingmen to follow him. They did so without a word.

"TIE fighters approaching! Squadron 1, engage and draw away from the rest of us!" The commander instructed. Luke broke left with the others, letting Biggs' squadron fly out to meet the oncoming TIEs.

"Don't engage, Squadrons 2 and 3! Acknowledge!"

"Yes, Commander," Luke replied instinctively. He swerved left to avoid a TIE that had broken away from the main cluster and gone towards himself and another X-Wing.

The X-Wing beside him let out a short barrage of fire, catching the TIE fighter on a wings. The ship exploded and Luke winced. Had that been Darmic?

"Nice shot, Red 3," said the Commander approvingly. "Let's go!"

Luke watched as Squadron 1 decimated the first swarm of TIEs and rejoined the main group. "Stay out of range of the guns, pilots," said the Commander. "We don't need to worry about them until we're in the trench. Red 4, 5, and 6, V-Formation above us."

Suddenly Luke's stomach clenched as he saw the leader of the next swarm of TIEs to be released from the Death Star. He reached out on impulse towards his father's crooked-winged TIE and felt his father's presence, a maelstrom of conflicting emotions. _Father?_

_Luke, what are you doing here?_

_I…_ Luke didn't have an answer other than the one he knew his father wouldn't approve of. _Don't go back to the Death Star, Father._

There was no response from Vader as he had to carefully executor a barrel roll to avoid a barrage of fire from one of the X-Wings. Luke fought off the instinct to go and help out and instead maintained his concentration on the task.

"Sith, I didn't know Darth Vader was on the Death Star!" One of the others exclaimed. "Commander, what do we do?"

"Try and shoot him down," said the man, "And try to stay out of his way. I've flown against Vader before."

"Affirm"—the man's transmission was cut off just as Vader destroyed his shield-generator and, with a few well-placed shots, blew up the ship.

"Quick, regroup!" the Commander said nervously. "We've got to get through! Engage the TIEs if you need to! Don't engage the Advanced TIE fighter under any circumstances!"

Luke banked hard right and whipped around, marveling and the maneuverability of the X-Wing. He pressed the trigger and blew up one of the TIEs trailing Biggs' ship, fighting off his conscience for the moment.

Vader destroyed two more X-Wings before rushing down to follow Biggs as he entered the trench that was the first leg of the mission. "Get him! Concentrate your firepower on the Advanced TIE!" The Commander instructed. "We've got to give Darklighter a chance!"

The X-Wings flew in and tried to hit Vader's ship, but he avoided the bolts with a precognitive-like ease. His two wingmen—Luke remembered with a jolt their skill above Kessel—whipped around and organized cover fire for him as he pursued Biggs' X-Wing into the trench.

Luke attempted to shoot one of them down, but it danced to the left and shot straight towards him. Luke swerved to the side and rose up to gain an advantage over his opponent.

"I need cover!" Biggs yelled. "I can't get away from this bastard!"

Luke ignored the stab of anger and moved up with two other X-Wings. "Hold on, Biggs," he told him, praying that his father wouldn't manage to shoot his friend down.

"Come on, Luke, help me!" Biggs cried out. Luke flew over the trench and saw his childhood friend narrowly miss a deadly bolt from his father's TIE.

_Please don't shoot him! _He cried out silently, hoping that he would somehow be able to stop his father.

_We are on opposite sides of this war, apparently_, Vader returned. _I have a duty to do._

Luke gritted his teeth and began, "Biggs, get out of there! You can't make it!"

"He's got to try!" The Commander intervened. "What are you doing, Skywalker? Try and shoot the Advanced TIE!"

Luke pulled up sharply to avoid fire from one of his father's wingmen. "I'm engaged!" He shouted over the comm, pulling around to try and hit the TIE, which banked right to fly around him. Luke pulled right, whipped around, and managed to hit the TIE fighter, which exploded into flames.

"Nice hit!" The Commander told him.

"I'm almost there!" Biggs told them over the comm. "I've got my targeting computer up!"

"Hurry!"

"I've almost got it—Yes!" Biggs cried out. "I just fired!"

They all waited with abated breath. "It didn't"—

Luke watched in horror as Biggs' ship exploded in flames. "No!"

_I am sorry, my son._

Without even bothering to consider his actions, Luke pulled up and dove into the trench, heading towards the target. He saw, in his mind's eye, his father's ship fall in behind him. _Don't stop me!_

_I will not shoot you, Luke! Get out of there! _His father's mind-voice sounded urgent.

_I'm not going to let this thing destroy another planet! _Luke shouted back. He cut the link with his father harshly and concentrated, knowing that he would need to use the Force to hit the target.

He reached out with an arm of the Force, feeling out the nearness of the target. He steeled himself, not even noticing that the Millennium Falcon had just appeared out of hyperspace and had sent his father's ship flying into space with a few shots.

10. 9. 8. 7. 6. 5. 4. 3. 2. 1…

He fired.


	14. Guilt On Hoth

For a moment, it was almost as bad as Alderaan. Nausea swept up through his stomach as the death cries of thousands of people shook through him, creating thousands of ripples in the Force. Luke closed his eyes and took several deep breaths through the respirator, the magnitude of his actions sinking in on him.

He had just killed hundreds of thousands, if not millions, of people, with a single shot.

His _father_! Luke desperately reached out for the Force to make sure that his father hadn't been caught in the blast and breathed a sigh of relief when he felt his father's familiar presence at the edges of his mind.

"All right!" The commander's voice shouted gleefully. "Great work, everyone!"

He must not be Force-sensitive, Luke noted dully, the ripples of the Force still running through him like the tones of a bell after being hit.

"Let's go back to the base!"

_I'm sorry, Father._

_I know._

Luke climbed out of his X-Wing as if on autopilot. Leia ran up to him and embraced him, smiling joyfully. "Luke, you did it!"

He stared at her weakly. "I am a murderer of thousands," he whispered, reeling from the realization. He froze.

Leia frowned. "Luke…"

He shrugged her off and leaned against his ship, breathing heavily for a few moments before freezing. He whipped around. "They _can't _know it was me!" he said urgently.

"Why not?" Leia asked, bewildered, as Mon Mothma walked over, beaming.

"Leia—I'm supposed to be dead," Luke hissed. "My father lied to the Emperor to keep me safe! If he finds out"—

"We will tell them that Commander Darklighter's torpedoes hit the targets," said Mothma, interrupting. "But you have done a great deed for the Alliance today, Skywalker," she said. "I apologize for the lack of a welcome."

Luke waved a hand. "You've got make sure everyone understands," he told her seriously. "It's bad enough that I just murdered hundreds of thousands of people, but to have my father get hurt"—

"I will do as you ask, Skywalker," said Mothma gently. "Go and celebrate."

"Celebrate?" he scoffed, his face darkening. "Celebrate over death? I don't think so," he said, turning and walking past Leia stiffly.

Leia looked sadly after him just as the Millennium Falcon landed next to his X-Wing and Han and Chewie appeared. She grinned. "You came back!"

"Had to watch his back," said Han with a roguish grin. He looked over to Luke's retreating back and his face fell. "He's killin' himself again, isn't he?" he said heavily.

Leia nodded. "He… He's guilty."

"Over his dad or the Death Star?" Han asked, cocking his head.

"Both, I think," said Leia. "Should we go talk to him?"

"Nah. I will," said Han. He turned to Chewie, who gave a loud roar. "Yeah, you can come too," he said offhandedly. "Come on, furball."

Leia watched them depart, frowning, just as her mother, veiled as always, walked up beside her. "He did it, didn't he?" Amidala asked gently.

"Yes," said Leia heavily, wishing that she could explain the entire situation to her mother. "He feels guilty."

"Like a true Jedi," said Amidala softly.

"You knew his father?" Leia asked, turning to face her mother with interest.

Amidala's shoulders tightened. "I did. He was an influential Jedi at the time of my senatorial term," she said. "Now come, darling. Let's celebrate that the Alliance has survived to fight another day."

Leia furrowed her brow at her mother's evasion of the subject. "Let's," she said finally, taking her mother's arm.

Luke sat on his cot, staring blankly at the wall. What had he done? Had his brazen use of the Force—thus identifying him—just condemned his father? Had he just betrayed his father's trust? Vader had risked everything to save Luke's life, and now this was the way that Luke repaid that risk, by placing both of them in danger?

He buried his head in his hands. How could he have done this? What had he been thinking? Besides his father, he had just wantonly destroyed thousands of lives. People called his father a monster, but he had turned out to be far worse! What kind of person killed people with a simple push of a button?

He angrily brushed away the tears that slipped down his cheeks just as two large furry arms reached out and crushed him to a large, furry chest. "Agh! Chewie, you're killing me!" he cried out in surprise. Odd that he had not felt them approach.

"Kid, are you okay?" Han asked, leaning in the doorway.

"I'm fine," said Luke. "What are you doing here?"

"Someone has gotta look after you," said Han airily. "These Rebels send you on a suicide flight as soon as I leave, so I stepped back in."

"Thanks," said Luke, staring at his feet.

"Stop torturin' yourself, kid," said Han, walking into the room and shutting the door. "Think about Alderaan. You stopped that from happening ever again."

"That doesn't change what I did, Han," said Luke sorrowfully. "And that on top of what'll happen to my father if I'm found out…" he trailed off. "What am I going to do?"

"Forgive yourself, first off," said Han. "You think that all the troubles of the Galaxy are your fault. Lighten up a bit, kid. You did what was necessary."

"But my father"—

"Can take care of himself, like I've said a million times," said Han, exasperated. "This is a war. People die, like it or not. Don't hate yourself for it."

Luke slumped. "You're right," he mumbled. "Thanks, Han."

"That's what I'm here for, kid," said Han with a grin. "Though you're more moody than a Zabrak with a score to settle," he said. "I mean it. Lighten up."

When Luke reemerged the following day, the members of his squad assaulted him. "We're not s'posed to be talkin' about it, man, and I dunno why not, but that was some flying!" said Wedge Antilles, grinning.

"Thanks," Luke said weakly.

"I'm impressed," said another voice, and Luke turned to see a man slightly taller than himself wearing a helmet and armor. He held out his hand. "I am Terzé Ba'kuun," he said. "It's an honor to meet you, Luke Skywalker."

"Thanks," said Luke, shaking his hand and feeling some strange sense of familiarity with the man. "I heard you came here with Lady Amidala?"

He inclined his head. "I am the child of her best friend, who died when I was a child," he explained. "She watched over me, and when I grew, I protected her. I still do so today."

"That's very noble of you," said Luke sincerely.

"It is repayment," said Terzé softly. "

"So I hear we're gettin' ready to leave this place," said another. "'pparently Vader survived it and he's bein' sent out here to fight us off with that big mother-ship of his."

"The _Executor_?" Terzé asked interestedly. "Just that one ship, or are other star destroyers going to come as well?"

The boy shrugged. "I dunno. I just heard Lady Mothma and General Rieekan talkin' about it."

"Shouldn't eavesdrop," said Wedge with a frown. "For all we know, they were discussing possibilities."

"I doubt it," said another one with a snort. "Vader's pride's been injured. He'll prob'ly come after us his self."

Luke tensed as they turned to him. "Whaddya think, Skywalker?"

"I don't know," he said shortly. "Perhaps the _Emperor's _pride had been injured. That would make more sense."

"Yeah, and just like 'im to send his little lapdog to do his dirty work," someone else spat. Luke froze and reached out for the Force to help him control his anger.

Han sidled up. "Don' think you're s'posed to be talkin' about Alliance plans," he said airily.

"And who're you?" Another one asked in surprise.

"Han Solo at your service," he said with a grin. "C'mon, Skywalker," he said, grabbing Luke's arm and pulling him away.

"What is it?" Luke asked, frowning as he rubbed his arm.

"Kid, I can spot an oncoming temper tantrum any day. D'you remember when that Mon Cal chick called your dad a bloodsucking assassin droid-man?" Han said patiently. "Things started shakin' and jumpin' around, and you woulda choked her too, without even knowin' it."

"Point taken," said Luke heavily. "What can I do, Han? Everybody here has got something to say about my father that bothers me. I'll give up my cover way too easily if I get angry."

"You gotta control your temper," Han said sagely. "Like, if someone insults my ship, I'll get offended but I can control myself."

"Most of the time," Luke snorted. "Remember that time in the cantina?"

"Ah, he took the worst of it," said Han lightly. "But that's not the point."

"But it's not my ship they're insulting, Han," said Luke as they walked down the hall, heading towards Luke's quarters. "It's my father. Every time somebody calls him a robot or whatever… It bothers me because they don't even know what happened to him. If they did, they wouldn't be so quick to attack him." Luke's face darkened.

"Well what happened, then?" Han asked diplomatically as they entered his room to see Chewie sprawled out on the cot.

Luke bit his lip. "You know I don't want to say."

"You keep bringin' it up," said Han with raised eyebrows. "If you can't tell me, who can you?"

"That's true," Luke admitted, sliding to the floor and crossing his legs. "In short…" He closed his eyes briefly and leaned against the wall. "He was fighting his best friend, who he thought betrayed him," he began slowly. "And basically… Obi-Wan cut off"—

"Obi-Wan?" Han asked, confused. "Who's that?"

"His friend," Luke explained. "Obi-Wan cut off his arm and his legs and then left him to burn on the banks of a lava flow," he said haltingly, fighting back the images from his own dream. "That's why he has a respirator. They found him a few hours later, and he was… completely charred." He grimaced at the adjective.

Han was staring at him, mouth open. "How could anyone survive that?"

"I don't know how he did," Luke admitted. "I mean… I wanted to die."

"What?"

Luke winced. "When I first went to him… I had a dream of it like I was him," he explained. "It's not something I'll forget too easily."

Han visibly recoiled. "You _dreamt_ it?"

"Yeah. I guess… It was the Force, I suppose," said Luke.

For once Han didn't roll his eyes. "Wow," he said finally. "I'm sure as hell not gonna talk about him again," he said.

"Like you would anyway," Luke snorted. "But you can see why I get angry."

"Yeah," said Han weakly, just as Chewie woke up. "It's about time," he said loudly to the wookiee, who replied rudely, causing Luke to smile.

Suddenly the door swung open and Wedge Antilles stuck his head inside. "There's a meeting for all pilots," he announced to Luke, who nodded.

After the door shut, Luke stood and stretched. "I've gotta go."

"I'll come too," said Han off-handedly.

"What?" Luke's eyes narrowed, and then he broke into a grin. "You joined the Rebellion, didn't you?"

"I wouldn't call it that," said Han, shrugging. "After I showed up at the Death Star they thought they could use me. I figure there's a nice payoff if the Alliance actually wins, anyway. And I gotta stick around to make sure you don' get into any trouble anyway," he added. "Might as well do somethin' with my time."

Luke shook his head, grinning. "Never thought I'd see the day, Solo."

"Ah, it's temporary."

Amidala's eyes were drawn to her son as soon as she walked into the meeting hall, Terzé at her side. She sighed. How she wished that she could tell her boy who she was… But she couldn't. She knew that. She had her Leia, but to have her son so tantalizingly close…

He shot a grin at the wookiee and for an instant, Amidala was transported back twenty years, when Anakin would laugh at the younglings in the Temple. The same smile, the same blue eyes… She recalled the adoring children watching him as he balanced various objects on his head, or performed some other equally silly trick. He had loved the younglings.

Before he had killed them all.

_No_, she admonished herself. He hadn't killed them. Obi-Wan had been mistaken.

She let out a heavy sigh and hung her head, her heart aching for its other half. "My lady?" Terzé asked concernedly. "Are you all right?" He touched her palm with his gloved one.

"I'm quite all right, Terzé, thank you," she said tiredly. How tired she was… After returning to Coruscant and burying Terzé's mother as if it was herself, she had gone into hiding, knowing that Palpatine would seek her out as a dissenter and a senator. She had run from place to place, bringing Terzé along with her and wondering all the while about her own children. She heard on the holonet of the Jedi Purge, and hoped and prayed that her Ani was safe from the monster that was Darth Vader.

And now she had her children back, but she could only watch Luke from afar. She glanced up once more to see her beautiful boy listening intently to General Rieekan, and she brought herself back to the present after her son's example.

"…Obviously we can't stay on Yavin IV," Rieekan was saying. "Through the Bothan spynet, we've received information that the Imperial fleet is amassing and planning to launch an attack within the week. The loss of the Death Star was a difficult one, but by no means is the Empire crippled. Now, we need to find a secure location where we can build our ranks…"

Amidala faded away, not really listening to the General. She observed Luke further, noting the way his too long hair curled at the ends like his father's. Why had Vader let him go? Why had he not killed him in the first place? When she had first learned that _Luke Skywalker _was on the _Executor_, and was being trained by the ship's master himself, she had given her baby up for dead. But when the news reached her that Vader had been _ordered _to kill him and sent him into hiding instead, her heart had leapt, thinking that somehow, they would be reunited.

And they were. Three years later. But if word got out that Padmé Naberrie still lived, she would endanger the entire Alliance still further. Palpatine knew that she had not supported him at the end, despite her early encouragement. If he learned that Leia was her daughter, and Luke her son… She shuddered to think of the measures that he would take to find them, to kill Luke, who had the potential to destroy him.

The Son of the Suns. Her Ani. Her Luke.

"My lady?" Terzé said, standing. Amidala looked up to see that the meeting had ended. She sighed. "I apologize, Terzé. I am growing old," she said with a rueful smile.

She felt a stab through her heart. She was growing old without Anakin. He was lost to her, he had abandoned her to fight this hopeless fight alone… _No_, she reprimanded herself. Not hopeless.

"You are like fine wine, my lady," said Terzé, and she knew he was smiling behind the helmet. "You grow more wonderful with age."

"Then I'm vintage," she quipped, standing and adjusting her veil. "Thank you for sitting with me, Terzé."

"My pleasure, my lady," said the man gently. "I think you should rest. It seems as if his arrival has taken a toll on you."

Amidala didn't need to ask to whom he was referring. "Perhaps you are right," she said wearily. "Wake me at mess?"

"Of course, my lady," said Terzé. "Let me accompany you."

"No, go on," said Amidala, smiling. "I can manage."

"If you're sure, Lady Amidala."

"Of course, Terzé," she said. "I will enjoy the walk."

He nodded and turned to leave, and Amidala let out another heavy sigh, turning and beginning the trek to her own room. If they were indeed moving once again, she would need to repack her belongings.

Once she returned to her chamber, she silently went through her things. Her hand lingered on the carved Japor snippet Ani had given her from so long ago… She had secretly removed it from Beshka's hand at her funeral, long after the mourner's had dispersed. Her remaining handmaidens had discouraged her from doing so, but she couldn't bear to lose her memento of her beloved. She picked up the trinket, her fingers slipping over the polished surface, caressing the smooth wood. She bit back tears. Why did it affect her so? Was it because Luke had come to the Rebellion that her thoughts hardly ever drifted from Anakin?

With a sigh, she placed the amulet into a small box and placed it at the bottom of her bag. Wearing it would certainly arise questions that she couldn't possibly answer.

With a sigh, Luke sunk onto his cot after the meeting, intending to meditate. He fell back on the blanket. He hadn't been able to sleep since the Death Star. It wasn't surprising, but still the reality of tossing and turning, or worse, dreaming about it, left him exhausted. He wondered idly how his father managed to be satisfied with meditation instead of sleep. Without realizing what he was doing, he reached out for his father's comforting—if conflicted—presence and found it nearer than he expected.

_Son_.

_Father_, Luke returned, grateful for the contact. _Where are you?_

_You think to spy on me for the Rebellion, Luke? _His father's mind-voice was light, but Luke knew that he was only joking partway.

_No. I can tell you're nearby. It's just…_

_You're guilty._

_Yes. How did you know?_

_Any Force-sensitive within a few lightyears would be able to tell, _Vader said dryly. _You need to remember to practice your shields._

_Aren't you angry with me? _Luke asked, surprised at the lack of bad feeling on his father's part.

_Over what? The Death Star? No. It's better that monstrous technological toy was destroyed. You needn't feel guilty._

_I do anyway._

_I know. It will pass._

_I don't want it to! _Luke protested. _If it does it'll mean that I've become—_he cut himself off sharply.

_Like me? You think me without guilt?_

_Not over the Jedi. Not over the Rebels. _Luke said, glad that his father didn't seem angry

_That is not all I have to feel guilty about._

Luke considered asking but he refrained. _I miss you._

There was a long pause, and Luke wondered whether his father had cut the link. _It is dangerous for us to talk. Do not give me an excuse to come after the Rebels. _With that, Vader truly severed the bond and Luke was left alone. With a sigh, he leaned back on his bed. Had this been how Obi-Wan had felt, all those years in the Jundland Wastes? Luke craved the intimate contact only another Force-sensitive person could provide, and especially desired the bond with his father. He rolled over on his stomach, hoping that his conversation with his father had somehow lessened his guilt.

"Mother?"

Amidala looked up to see her daughter—her lovely daughter—enter the room. "Terzé said that you weren't feeling well." Leia sounded concerned. She walked inside and sat next to her mother on the cot.

"I'm fine. Just tired," said Amidala with a smile. She had removed her veil, and her daughter lifted a hand to touch her cheek gently.

"I am astute enough to sense something is bothering you," Leia said softly. "What is it? You know you can tell me."

With the years of practice on schooling her features, Amidala was able to hide her raging emotions. How she wished she could tell Leia everything! How she wished that her family would be reunited! She settled for a long sigh. "I've lived a long life, Leia," she told her daughter. "It's catching up with me. That's all."

"You're sad," Leia stated, taking her mother's hand.

"Of course," said Amidala, carefully keeping the bitter note from her voice. "I have many sorrows in my life, from seeing the Republic fall to letting you go."

"You did it to protect me," said Leia. "Please don't feel badly."

Amidala looked at her daughter fondly and saw Ani's jaw, Ani's smile. She closed her eyes and hung her head before she realized what she was doing. "Mother? Mother, what is it?"

Amidala glanced upwards, unable to stop her lip from quivering. "I long for a galaxy that is lost to me," she said, speaking more to herself than to Leia, as if trying to convince her heart. "I long for a future that can never be."

"Please don't talk that way," said Leia. "The Alliance is strong! We can overcome the Empire, and restore justice and freedom. We can, and we will. I know it." Leia's voice rose and fell passionately as she described the New Republic—one that would never be suspect to corruption, to a creature like Palpatine.

Amidala smiled sadly. _She thinks I believe the Alliance will fail, when in reality…I just want the comfort of my beloved's arms around me and my children nearby._

"Get some rest, Mother," said Leia quietly. "We will be leaving Yavin IV soon. You'll need your strength."

"Thank you, darling," said Amidala as her daughter rose and left the room. With another sigh, she lay back on her cot, squeezing her eyes shut. How had it come to this? How had the Galaxy been torn apart? How had she lost her love, and seen her children ripped from her arms? How could she had watched everything, and done nothing…?

Hoth.

It was a cold, barren planet with a climate the polar opposite of Tatooine.

Despite his years in space, Luke remained a true son of Tatooine, and he proved it as he shivered and gasped as the Rebellion began to set up base in the remote iceworld. Most of the other pilots laughed at him, but one of them sympathized—a humanoid from a desert planet, while not in a binary star system, that had an average temperature of 80 degrees Celsius. He and Luke shivered together while Chewie went back and forth into the snow, shaking his head.

"C'mon, kid, you're wearing double the layers as the rest of us," said Han, grinning. "It's not that bad."

"Go freeze yourself," Luke managed out of chattering teeth as Chewie walked up and picked him up, squeezing the former farmboy to his chest. Luke cried out and Chewie let go, growling playfully. "Oh, go jump in the snow," Luke retorted, drawing his wraps closer around himself.

"Surely a Jedi isn't afraid of a little cold," said Leia, laughing, as she tramped into the hangar, brushing off the white powder from her jacket.

"I'm not a Jedi yet," Luke responded, grinning. "I can be afraid if I want."

Leia rolled her eyes. "Well, you're in for it, then, because Mothma is sending out all the pilots to reconnaissance the surrounding area to make sure it's safe."

Luke let out a moan. "You can't be serious!"

Leia laughed again. "Go get some food, or something, Luke," she instructed, and the boy drew himself up.

"I will," he said, maintaining a scrap of his dignity as he ran inside the building.

Han shook his head in wonderment. "Kid's been a space rat for over three years, and I still have to take back the blankets he steals from me," he said, grinning.

"How did you come to be together?" asked Leia delicately as she accepted a small crate from Chewie, who seemed to be enjoying himself.

Han scratched his head. "It's a long story. And I'm not allowed to tell part of it," he said with a smile.

"Oh?"

"Yeah. Got my orders from the man in black himself," said Han with another uncomfortable smile. "He… sorta gave me responsibility for Luke. I'm afraid of what'll do if the kid gets hurt, so I stick around."

Leia ignored the mention of Vader. "That can't be the only reason you're here," she said. "You're like brothers."

"Well, we've been workin' together for a few years," Han replied off-handedly. He gave her a sudden grin. "He's gotten us outta some tough scrapes, lemme tell ya."

"Oh?" Leia seemed interested.

"Yep. There was that one time, when this Rodian crime boss figured out we conned him into givin' us twice the pay for this load of spice, and he sent his thugs to get us after we had fixed the deal," Han said. "These two Gamorreans jump out at us and took my blaster," he continued. "Then the kid jumps over to 'em, armed only with his saber, and is like, 'Tell Beti—that was the Rodian—to come and kill us himself if he wants us dead.' The two thugs laugh at him and a second later, Luke had his saber out and at their necks. Scared 'em good."

"He killed them?" Leia asked, horrified.

"Of course not," Han said impatiently. "Kid hasn't killed no one besides the Death Star. And…" He trailed off, remembering that day in the cell as they flew towards this super star destroyer. "This one kid. When he was fourteen."

"He killed someone at fourteen?" Leia asked, wondering if she had perhaps been wrong about Luke. It sounded as if he was well on the way to becoming Vader's little copy.

Han was obviously uncomfortable. "It's how we met," he explained. "I'm not exactly sure what happened, only that after it happened he ran away in a TIE fighter and asked me for passage. He was real shaken up, guilty an' all that. At the beginning, he used to have nightmares about it. Never told 'im I knew, though."

Leia was subdued. It didn't seem as though Luke would have been guilty if he was as evil as Vader. But did that mean he wasn't dangerous? She remembered the gleam of anger in his eyes whenever someone insulted his father. He kept himself in control, but the thought of what he could do if he didn't…

"Don't worry about him, Princess," said Han reassuringly. "He's not gonna go crazy, or anythin.' And he isn't about to turn traitor, either."

"I know," said Leia, not sure of how she knew. She had felt a strange connection with Luke, as though she understood him, since their first meeting. "It just scares me."

"All that Force stuff scares me. I can't very well say I don' believe in it anymore… but I don' gotta understand it," said Han sympathetically. "I leave that up to Luke, and I don't think he understands it much either."

"Leia tells me you're from Tatooine," said Amidala, walking over to Luke with two cups of stimcaf. Luke looked up in surprise.

"You've _heard_ of Tatooine?" he asked in surprise.

Amidala laughed, ignoring the gut-wrenching desire to tell him that yes, she knew Tatooine. It was the place she had first met his father, a sweet, generous boy that had risked everything to help her… "I am from Naboo," she explained, not noticing the tension suddenly in his shoulders. "It is a nearby system to Tatooine."

"Oh," Luke said, accepting the steaming cup. "Thank you."

"Don't worry about it," said Amidala warmly.

"Did you know a Padmé?" Luke asked suddenly, looking up at her with a reckless hope in her eyes.

Amidala froze. How did he know that name? "I did not," she said, before her silence gave her away. "If I may inquire, who is she?"

Luke's hope faded away and he glanced down to his cup. "She was my mother. I never knew her," he explained quietly.

Amidala's heart cried out for him. Her poor, lost boy! How she desperately wished to cry out, to hold him, to tell him the truth…! She forced words past the lump in her throat. "I am very sorry to hear that."

He nodded silently and then stood. "Thank you for the caf," he repeated. Amidala smiled, but of course he couldn't tell from behind the veil.

"My pleasure," she told him, and watched her son, her beloved son walk away.

A few minutes later, Terzé sat down in his spot. "You shouldn't be spending too much time with him, my lady," he gently admonished her.

"I know," Amidala said heavily. "He asked me about Padmé, Terzé," she said, looking up to her protector's helmeted head. "How could he know?"

It was her imagination, or Terzé tensed and he started to squirm in discomfort before carefully pushing his emotions away. "I don't know. Perhaps… Perhaps his guardians told him."

"I suppose that's it," Amidala acknowledged. She stared at her reflection, seeing past the veil to her tired face. "Thank you for grounding me, as always, my friend," she said to the man.

He inclined his head. "Of course." She got up to leave but he stayed, wondering if he had been wrong to lie. How weak he had been, that he couldn't bear to see his guardian hurt, and had thus kept the truth from her!

He scowled behind the helmet. What would have changed, if he had told the truth all those years ago? Would Luke and Leia and Padmé be reunited? And Vader with them, if they three managed to bring him to the light? Would Palpatine be dead?

He carefully herded his wild thoughts back behind the walls. He had learned many things during his lifetime, and had created his own beliefs from his experiences, and one he would never forget was that the past belonged in the past. Slowly, he stood, biting back his annoyance at the armor he wore. With a sigh that no one heard, he turned and left the makeshift mess hall to go help the others.

"We are not invincible," said General Rieekan to his audience. "A sudden attack on the part of indigenous peoples or by the Empire could have disastrous consequences. Rogue Squadron, you're to be provided with Tauntauns and you will scout the area for any possible dangers."

Luke's squadron let out various answers to the affirmative and he groaned inwardly. Would the Force keep him warm? Nothing else was likely to work. He stood and adjusted his various coverings, just as Leia walked up with Han, smiling. "You're in luck," Leia said lightly. "We know how much you love the snow."

"Ha, ha," Luke retorted sarcastically. "Why, of all places, did you have to suggest this one, Leia?" he questioned. "The most Force-forsaken hunk of rock in the entire galaxy?"

"I thought that was Tatooine," said Han, grinning. "Come on, kid. I'm gonna go with you. And surely your lightsaber can do somethin' to warm ya up?"

"Oh, yes," said Luke. "I'll test it on you. I'm sure you wouldn't mind losing your arm."

Han held up two hands as a gesture of peace and goodwill, laughing. "It's not that bad. We do what we gotta do, get back, and you can crawl into your bed," said Han. "We're settin' out as soon as you're ready."

"Fine, fine," Luke said, walking past him to where a makeshift quartermaster was handing out the proper cold-weather gear. A few minutes later, he returned with his arms full of clothes, boots, and a face mask.

"Luke, it won't be that bad," Leia chided. "Like Han said, you've been in space for the past three years."

"And that's the only part I hate," Luke returned. "You'll be sorry when they drag me in, frozen to death."

Leia rolled her eyes. "Go on. Your tauntaun is waiting."


	15. The New Base

"See anything, kid?" Han's voice asked in Luke's ear. Luke, bundled up against the cold, peered around the snowy surroundings in futility.

"I see nothing except snow," he responded finally. "This place really is completely dead."

"Well, that's better than raging Imps," Han responded playfully, just as Luke saw a meteor streak from the sky to land nearby.

He narrowed his eyes. Something was definitely not right… "I just saw something," he told Han. "It looks like a meteor, but it doesn't feel right. I sense something."

Han, well-used to Luke's 'feelings', said nothing for a moment. "You've got your lightsaber, right?"

"Of course," Luke retorted. "You go back. I'll check it out and return back to Base, and let them know if it's something other than a meteor."

"I dunno, kid," said Han dubiously. "I don't wanna leave ya out here…"

"Han, I can take care of myself," Luke said dryly. "I'm more worried about you."

"Thanks," the smuggler retorted. "Are you sure?"

"I'm sure. Go and warm up. Sidle up to Leia," Luke said with a grin that the cold gear coverings prevented.

"Whaddya mean?" Han asked indignantly.

"Never mind," Luke said, fighting back laughter.

"If you think I've got _feelings _for her, buddy, you've got another thing comin'"—Han said into the comm.

"Ah, you'll break her heart, I guess," said Luke teasingly.

The comm on the other end was suspiciously silent. "Oh, go freeze to death," Han said at last. "Good luck."

"Thanks for the advice," Luke returned. "Skywalker out."

Once the commlink was severed, Luke urged the smelly beast forward to where the meteor—or whatever it was—had landed. As he drew nearer, his worst fears were realized as several mechanical contraptions extended from the 'meteor.' A probe.

An Imperial probe.

Luke swore silently to himself and tried to shake off the warning that the Force was giving him. Something—he wasn't sure if it was the probe—felt wrong. Suddenly his tauntaun stopped abruptly and began to back away. Wondering if the creature felt the same warning as he did, Luke stopped the animal and dismounted, patting the beast on his flank. He rested a gloved hand on his lightsaber, glad that at least his right hand didn't feel cold.

His Force-sense prickled and instinctively, he jumped away as a gargantuan beast suddenly emerged from the shadows and swiped his clawed paw at the tauntaun, which let out an eerie scream. The force of the blow to the animal's neck snapped the bones instantly, and in an instant, dread replaced surprise in Luke's stomach. His means of transportation back to the Base had just been removed.

The enormous white-furred creature suddenly turned his attention to Luke, and it lunged towards him, but Luke was able to neatly sidestep the creature, wondering if it was against the Jedi code to kill animals. Or was it sentient? The creature crashed into the snow and lifted its head, shaking off the powder. With a roar, it rushed Luke again, and he moved to step away, his hands on his lightsaber, but his left leg got caught in the snow and he fell back, just as the creature's paw slammed into his face, knocking him out instantly.

When Han returned to the Base, he gratefully handed his tauntaun over to the keeper and removed his cold gear, sick of the oppressiveness of the costume.

"Han! You're back!" Leia came around the corner. Her gaze clouded. "Where's Luke?"

Han shrugged. "He wanted to stay behind to check out some meteor."

"You left him out there alone?" a sharp voice reprimanded. Han turned and blanched to see Lady Amidala—Leia's mother—giving him what he knew to be a look of disapproval from behind the black veil she wore at all times.

"Beggin' your pardon, your ladyship," said Han, more than a little stung at the insinuation that his judgement concerning Luke's safety was faulty. "But Luke is fine. He can take care of himself."

"We don't know the surrounding land well enough," said Amidala, ignoring his barb. "He could get injured somehow."

"Mother," said Leia, bewildered by Amidala's strange concern, "Luke is fine."

Amidala let out a sigh. "You're right, of course. But perhaps we should send out a guard to look for him…?"

"I'll go," said the lady's armored bodyguard that Han knew to be Terzé Ba'kuun, a pilot in Rogue Squadron. Han hadn't even noticed his approach.

Amidala patted his shoulder. "No," she said. "I won't have you endangering yourself, Terzé."

"But, ma'am"—Terzé began before stopping himself. "As you wish, my lady."

Han watched the exchange suspiciously. He had learned vague details about the Lady Amidala and her bodyguard—that Terzé was the son of her friend, and her protector—but his strange offering of himself to go find Luke was disturbing. Just who was he? And why the armor? And why did Amidala care so much, anyway?

"I'm gonna go change," he said finally. "He'll come in on the south east entrance."

The first things Luke noticed when he came to consciousness were a pounding ache in his head and sharp pain from his face. He dimly remembered the monster charging him and the feel of his lightsaber in his hands… but then it had all gone black.

Luke briefly wondered why his head felt so heavy when he realized he was upside down. He opened his eyes blearily and saw his feet above him, encased in a block of ice. Wincing as he realized that he couldn't feel them at all, he reached out with the Force to assess the damage to his body.

It didn't seem to be to bad. His face was bleeding, and he felt as though he'd been tossed around, but it was livable. He noticed that he was in some kind of cave with stalactites and stalagmites from the ground and ceiling. He felt for his lightsaber, hoping he hadn't lost it in the snow, and almost cried out in relief when he saw it nearby. He called it to his and freed himself from the ice easily enough. He bit back a cry of pain as he fell to the ground, feeling as though he had just made some bruises worse.

He glanced around and noticed for the first time the sound of crunching bones and slobbering teeth—he looked up and saw the horrifying snow-creature ripping meat off what he realized was his tauntaun. He felt a stab of regret—the poor creature hadn't deserved that—before very quickly noticing that the monster had seen that he was awake.

The beast stood and let out a growl, lunging towards Luke. He didn't have time to wonder if it was right according the Jedi Code to kill the creature—his feet were still too numb to do anything. He raised his lightsaber and cut the animal's arm off, hoping that his warning would get through to the animal.

The loss of its limb only seemed to infuriate the creature more. It let out a roar and leapt for Luke, who scrambled out of the way and swung his lightsaber in a deadly arc, decapitating the monster. There was a thunderous crash as the beast fell to the floor of the cave, and the disruption caused several stalactites to splinter. Luke lay still for a few moments, breathing heavily as he realized his peril.

He had to get back to the base. If he didn't, he would surely freeze to death in the sub-zero temperatures of Hoth. He stood, glad to see that the feeling had returned to his feet, and wrapped his ripped jacket around him snugly, replacing the facemask. Keeping his lightsaber in his hands, Luke finally ventured out into the rapidly failing evening, gasping as the winds permeated his coat and sent chills down his spine. Biting his lip, he cast tendrils of the Force out to help him identify his location, and tramped towards the base, the call of the people there easy to feel.

When Han returned to the hangar to help Chewie make some modifications to the Falcon, he was surprised to see Leia run up to him, her brow furrowed in worry. "Han, did you see Luke come in?" she asked urgently.

A short stab of fear hit Han's heart. "No, why?

"He's missing," said Leia. "We've checked all of the entrances, and no one has seen him since you two left."

"Are you serious?" Han asked in disbelief. "Then he's out there, alone and in the cold! We've got to do something!"

"They're trying to close the hangar entry, Han," said Leia. "What can we do?"

"You stay here," said Han, making his decision in a matter of seconds. "I'm going out there."

"_What_?" Leia questioned in complete surprise. "Are you mad?"

"Listen, I've promised to take care of that kid and I'm not about to stop now," said Han forcefully. "I'm getting out there."

"Han, no!" Leia begged, grabbing his arm. "You could die!"

"I won't," said Han, though it was more for her than for him. "I've got to go."

The cold was all consuming.

Luke had lost his vision long ago with the winds and the snow blocking anything he could have seen. His extremities were numb with cold, and his breaths came in short gasps. He felt the unconsciousness at the edges of his mind, and for some reason, it reminded him of that time three years earlier, being attacked by ruthless battle droids as he went dizzy in the heavily oxygenated environment of his father's house on Bain.

His father had come to save him then.

His father wasn't here now.

Luke tried to reach the Force to give him the strength he needed to repel some of the cold, but he was too exhausted and distracted for anything. He fell to his hands and knees and crawled forward, not knowing if he was heading towards the base or going in circles. He grabbed the snow with his mechanical hand, which seemed to be functioning poorly in the intense cold. He pulled himself along, his legs losing feeling. He collapsed in the snow, drawing his arms around his body, not having the energy even to shiver.

He blinked once, twice as a glowing figure materialized in front of him, untouched by the snow or winds.

Obi-Wan smiled at him. "You need to get back to the base, Luke," he said, and despite the wind, Luke heard him perfectly.

"T-t-t-too c-c-c-c-old," he heard himself say, the sound muffled by the facemask.

"The time has come for you to become the Jedi you were born to be, Luke," said Obi-Wan. "You must go to Dagobah alone. There you will find Jedi Master Yoda, the last remaining Jedi in the Galaxy."

"B-b-b-besides m-m-m-my father," Luke responded stubbornly. Dagobah? Dagobah was a wet, uninhabited world. Why would a Jedi Master be there?

"Your father is no longer a Jedi," said Obi-Wan. "He forsook the Order when he joined Palpatine. You have come far in your quest to defeat the Dark Side, Luke, but you have not purged yourself of it fully. The anger is still there."

Luke didn't have the energy to respond and closed his eyes. "Go to Dagobah, Luke. There you will learn your destiny."

Luke barely comprehending the Force ghost's words as another gust of wind bit into his frozen skin. _Father…_he moaned, not even fully aware of his actions, _Help me._

Right before he passed, out, he reached for the activation switch on his lightsaber, pointed it upwards, and stuck his arm in the snow, immobilizing his hand and keeping the saber lit. _Please_, he prayed silently. _Someone find me._

Aboard the _Executor_, Vader tried to shake off the feeling that something very bad was happening. He stalked towards the communications room of the giant ship. Palpatine had been furious about the destruction of the Death Star. It had been a personal blow against him and his pride, and already he was beginning to talk of building another one.

Vader curled his lip in disgust. Palpatine was forgetting the simple power of the Force in favor of technology. It nauseated him. His master had questioned him thoroughly about the pilot of the X-Wing who had blown up the battle station, and Vader had had to lie more to his master than ever before.

No, he had said, there was nothing special about the boy.

Yes, he had maintained, he was just an extraordinary pilot. We haven't found the identity of the pilot yet.

Palpatine hadn't been satisfied, and Vader had gotten the sickening sensation that his master was merely testing him, that he knew the truth. Vader hardly allowed himself to think of the consequences if the Emperor found out that his apprentice had lied to protect his son. His inaction had allowed a massive amount of money and effort manifested in the Death Star to become resources used completely in vain.

Vader had thrown himself into the search for the Rebels whole-heartedly, trying to show that he mirrored his master's feelings on the issue. In recognition, Palpatine had waved away any possible superiority over him on the parts of Grand Moffs. Vader was in complete command, in every way, of the military. No one dared to question his authority.

_Father…. Help me…_

Vader froze. The voice was weak, and it was his son's. He reached out, the Force surging through him as he felt for his son's presence. Where was he? A second later, he felt Luke's weakening consciousness on the remote iceworld of Hoth.

The rebels were on Hoth.

His son was dying on Hoth.

Vader stalked inside the communications chamber. "Set course for Hoth," he barked. "And prepare for a heavy land-based invasion," he said to Admiral Ozzel, who looked up in surprise.

"My lord, I don't think that Hoth is"—Ozzel stopped, Vader's anger and fear for his son creating a lethal invisible hand crushed his trachea. A second later, Ozzel dropped to the ground. "Set course for Hoth," he repeated to Ozzel's successor.

The man nodded and bowed, terrified out of his mind as Vader turned around, returning to his meditation room.

How dare the Rebels place his son in danger? Did they not know that Luke Skywalker was not some petty, expendable pilot? Surely they treated their heroes better than this?

Vader let his fury wash over him and mingle with his apprehension. Would Luke be all right? Would he get there in time?

Han tried to ward off the panic that was spreading through him like a cancer. He had found no sign of Luke or the tauntaun he had ridden on. He had scoured Luke's sector and hadn't seen anything out of the ordinary, much less the supposed meteor that Luke had seen.

He squinted into the howling winds that blew snow and cold into him and felt a deep despair grow in his heart. He couldn't see anything, and he was beginning to get abnormally cold. Luke had been out here for hours… Han could only imagine his condition.

He nudged his animal onwards, but the tauntaun didn't move. Frowning, Han jumped off the creature's back and to his dismay, the animal fell over, frozen stiff. Swearing to himself, Han stamped his feet in an effort to keep warm and lifted his hand to shield his brow. He scanned the horizon, hoping desperately to see something indicative of life.

Han's eyes almost passed over the glowing blue light because it was so far away. He froze. Could that be…? He broke into a run, stumbling through the snow towards the lightsaber. His heart jumped into his mouth when he saw the huddled frozen form, the lightsaber extending upwards. The light sword had kept most ice from forming on Luke's body and had a small globe of not-quite-so-cold air around him. Gingerly, Han reached down and pried the lightsaber from Luke's frozen fingers and watched in dismay as the blade deactivated. He stuffed it into his pocket and reached down to try and pick Luke up.

Han almost dropped him in surprise when Luke mumbled, "Obi-Wan… Dagobah… Master Yoda…"

Shaking his head, Han managed to sling Luke over his shoulder and tramped back the direction that he had come, towards his dead tauntaun. He grabbed the carcass and bent it so that the legs and body formed a kind of semi-circle. Removing the lightsaber apprehensively from his pocket, Han fumbled for the switch and it jumped to life with the snap-hiss he had heard so many times. He pressed it into the snow and the ozone evaporated the crystals within a hand span. Encouraged, Han managed to clear out an area and he shoved Luke's form into the snow-less hollow and crouched by him, hoping that they would live the night.

Amidala couldn't sleep. Her baby, her beautiful boy, was out in the barren environment, and he was so cold and in danger. She sat up, absentmindedly fingering the jappor snippet as if it would somehow call Ani from the Force to help him. Her boy's friend—Han Solo—had torn out of the base, disregarding practical advice and rushing headlong into danger to save his friend. Like Ani would have.

She smiled. Han was a good friend. One day, she would make sure he knew how grateful she was for watching over her son all these years. With a sigh, she settled back into the uncomfortable cot, remembering the luxury of Naboo.

Naboo. Her beautiful home was in ruins. In the darkness, she frowned. What cause had there been to wantonly destroy the peaceful planet? Granted, it was certainly not as complete a destruction as Alderaan's, for that there was no comparison, but still… To see her homeworld so completely stripped of beauty, of life… All by Palpatine's hand. He had done that to his own home.

For a brief second, Amidala let her anger wash over her before gently repelling it. A path to the Dark Side anger is. She gave another sad smile as she remembered wise old Yoda's words. She was no Force-sensitive, but the saying did have practicality. Anger does not solve anything.

But apathy doesn't help her son. Amidala hoped he was all right. He was resourceful and a Jedi, or at least in training to become one, so it was likely he had managed to find some sort of shelter. She hoped so. With another sigh, she closed her eyes to the dream she knew was coming, and—

_The flames licked at her, crawling up her skin…_

Han didn't know how he did it, but somehow he managed to actually sleep as the storm and winds raged around himself and Luke. In the morning, he examined the boy and was relieved to see that his facial injuries were only surface injuries. But Han didn't have the time or resources to make sure that he wasn't hurt anywhere else. Frowning, he leaned back against the frozen tauntaun, noticing that the lightsaber's evaporation of the snow hadn't lasted.

Luke had been delirious in that one moment of consciousness, but the mention of Obi-Wan startled Han. What had happened, to make him say that name? Repressing a shiver of cold, Han dug inside his jacket and removed a ration bar, grimacing as he bit through the tough, chewy food. It was worse than space food. He waited for a while, checking Luke's pulse every few minutes, until he finally heard the roar of engines nearby. He grabbed his commlink and toggled with the frequency until he was on the right one. "It's about time!" He said into the viewplate, and a second later the face of a pilot swam into view, grinning. "We'll be there soon!"

An hour later, they made it back to the base after using the speeder that had been sent to get them Luke was rushed to the improvised medbay and Han, relieved, allowed the medical droids to take him away and process him for a Bacta dip.

"I can't believe you went out there," said Leia, appearing at his elbow.

Han said nothing for a few moments. "I gotta watch his back," he said finally. "Have you heard of a Master Yoda?"

Leia's eyebrows raised. "Of course! Why?"

"Who is he?"

"He was one of the greatest Jedi that ever lived," said Leia enthusiastically. "He was small in stature, but very powerful," she explained. "He lived for over nine hundred years."

"So he's dead?" Han said, furrowing his brow.

"Well…" Leia thought a moment. "It's assumed that he is, considering the Purge. No one knows for sure. It just says 'presumed killed by Darth Vader' in the archives."

"Of course," said Han wryly.

A shadow passed over her face. "Of course."

Han scratched his head. "How's it possible he's Luke's dad? I mean… He's a good kid. A good person. He defends his dad to hell and back but that doesn't change that Vader is…"

"I know," said Leia heavily. "I suppose… I suppose he must have been good, at one time," she offered doubtfully. "I mean… someone must have loved him. You can't love someone who's evil."

Han shook his head. "I dunno. It's not something I'm gonna walk up and ask 'im though."

Leia laughed out loud. "I can just see it. Imagine Threepio: 'Um, excuse me, Lord Vader, but I was wondering how it was possible for anyone to love you?'"

Han burst out laughing. "Vader'd probably rip him limb from limb," he said.

"If you are to continue making noise then I suggest you leave the medical room," a mechanized voice suddenly told them, and Han and Leia whipped around to see a 2-1B unit looking as perturbed as a droid was able.

"We're sorry," said Leia. "Come on, Han," she said, grabbing the smuggler by the arm and leaving.

"Leia!"

Leia glanced up to see her mother standing in the hallway. "Mother, I'm surprised to see you here," she said.

"I was concerned for Mr. Skywalker," said Amidala after a moment. "You were very brave, Mr. Solo, to risk yourself to save him."

Han gave a short little bow. "Thanks for the compliment, ma'am."

"He'll be all right," said Leia. "The droids are prepping him for a Bacta dip. It looks like he had some frostbite and a little hypothermia. Han really did save him, though," she said, giving the briefest of proud smiles to the smuggler.

"Ah, I did what any friend'd do," said Han uncomfortably. "I'll see you later, Princess," he said. "Ma'am," he said to Amidala, who nodded regally as he passed.

"Mother, why the concern?" asked Leia as she took her mother's arm.

"Just curiosity," said Amidala. "It's not every day that a man risks himself for a friend."

Leia was unconvinced but she chose to let the matter slide. "Lady Mothma has expressed interest that you join the High Command," she said after a moment. "You were an excellent leader, Mother. You can be still."

"Perhaps," Amidala replied evasively. She had helped Bail Organa and Mon Mothma found the Alliance, of course, but she had done so from afar. As soon as her supposed funeral was over, she had left on a public transport to the Outer Rim and traveled from planet to planet, too absorbed in the pain of her dead husband and lost children that she couldn't bring herself to become an active part of the Rebellion.

"Mother," Leia reprimanded gently. "We need you. You could help us."

Amidala smiled at her daughter who was so much like she had been, back in the day… Back before the Empire, before her family's separation. She had always thought she could overcome anything, but after losing Ani… A tiny voice in the back of her mind asked her what Ani would want her to do, and she bit her lip. "I will talk to Lady Mothma."

Leia beamed. "Thank you, Mother."

Luke opened his eyes and the medbay swam into view. For a brief second, he thought he was back in his father's quarters on Bain, but on further inspection, he remembered where he was. Groaning, he sat up and examined his body for injuries. He frowned. He didn't seem to have any bruises. How had he gotten here, anyway? He dimly remembered using his lightsaber as a signal—

Luke's tiredness evaporated and he jerked his head towards the table beside his bed. No lightsaber. Feeling the beginnings of panic overwhelm him, Luke tried to think of where it could be. He hadn't relinquished his weapon in three years—it was his only reminder of his father, and it symbolized his future. If he had lost it, he wouldn't be able to replace it. His father had built the weapon, but he had no idea how to do so. He muttered a soft swear. Was it still out there? Had he lost it forever?

"You're awake, finally," came a familiar voice.

Luke looked to see Han enter the medbay. "Yeah," he said distractedly, peering over the side of his bed. Suddenly, the hilt of his saber was thrust in his face, and Luke looked up to see Han handing it over, smiling.

"Didn't think I'd let you leave it out there, did you?" he asked with a grin.

"You mean—you…?" Luke asked in surprise, accepting the weapon.

Han nodded and shoved his hands in his pockets. "They figured you were dead. I knew your dad would kill me if somethin' happened to ya, so…"

"Thanks."

"Who else is gonna get you out of these scrapes?" Han returned. "You feelin' okay?"

"How long have I been out?" Luke asked, his adrenaline-spurred energy dissipating now that he had found his saber. He leaned back into the pillows.

"A few days. You weren't in great shape when we made it back here," Han said. "What happened, anyway?"

Luke's eyes widened as he remembered. "The probe!"

"What?" Han asked sharply.

"The meteor was an Imperial probe," said Luke quickly. "I went to investigate and before I could get there, some giant… snow creature thing attacked me. It knocked me out and when I woke up, I was hanging upside down in its cave. I had to kill it before I got away."

"Why didn't you just stay in the cave?" Han asked, raising his eyebrows.

"I don't know. I should have," Luke admitted. "I thought I had to try and get back to the base."

"An Imperial probe, huh?" Han said finally. "Does that mean…?"

Luke paled. "Han…" he whispered.

"What?"

"When I was out there…" Luke shut his eyes tightly.

"What is it?"

"I called my father," Luke told his friend, biting his lip.

Han went white. "Then…."

"He's coming," Luke said, rubbing his temples with his hands. "Han, what have I done?"

"We've got to evacuate," said Han firmly. "There's a 'fresher over there. I'll let the High Command know what's going on."

"Luke found a probe out there," Han told Mon Mothma later. He stood in front of the High Command, uneasy with the attention.

"What kind of probe?" Mon asked sharply.

"An Imperial one," Han said heavily. "I think we should evacuate."

"Evacuate?" Mon repeated incredulously. "We've only just arrived, Captain Solo. It takes a lot of resources that we don't have to put up another base."

"What about the people? Surely they're harder to replace," Han retorted angrily. "The Imperials are gonna come, Lady Mothma. We've gotta get outta here."

Mon's gaze narrowed. "Watch your tone, Captain Solo.

Han let out a deep breath. "Listen, you've just got to trust me."

"No. Trust me," a new voice said.

The High Command looked up collectively as Luke stepped inside the audience chamber, looking pale, but healthy. "Skywalker. "We're glad to see you're well," said Mothma briefly.

Luke winced and wasted no time. "The Imperials are coming here," he told the leader of the Alliance. "It's my fault. When I was out in the snow, I…" He paused. "I was delirious. I called out to my father to help me."

"You did _what_?" Another member of the High Command exclaimed, and Luke remembered that she had been one of the ones to heartily discourage Mothma from letting him join.

"If I know my father," said Luke slowly. "He'll come quickly."

Mon said nothing for a few moments. "And how, exactly, did you do this? You used a commlink?"

"No," Luke said. "It's…" He hesitated. "I can communicate with him telepathically. Because we're both Force-users, and because we're related."

Mon froze. "You will be punished later," she said quickly, the urgency of the matter causing her to disregard the manner in that the information was given to her. "We've got to evacuate."

"Where can we go?" General Rieekan retorted. "We plan out our bases months in advance!"

"I know where you can go," said Luke, ignoring the sting of betrayal in his heart.

"I don't think we're going to trust you," someone said. "You have just called the Imperials down on us! You've done enough!"

"No, let him speak. You know a place?" Mon asked.

Luke swallowed. "Mustafar," he said, his heart sinking. He called out a silent apology to his father. "It's a volcanic planet and uninhabited."

"A volcanic planet? Brilliant. Let's add another mortal risk," someone snorted.

"Why Mustafar?" Mon asked, narrowing her eyes.

Luke bit his lip. "My father will never go there. He hates it."

"Why?"

Luke's eyes flashed. "Isn't it enough just to know that?" he said, trying to calm himself.

"We need assurance."

Luke squeezed his eyes shut, his hands trembling. "He avoids it at all costs," he said finally. "It's the reason he's on a respirator."

Mon stared at him curiously. "Is it livable?"

"It was used as a hideaway for Separatists before the Empire," Luke continued, glad that the focus shifted away from his father. "There are buildings there." After his dream, he had looked up the planet, and was glad he had done so now.

Mon sighed and they waited for her to continue. "Very well," she said at last. "Change the rendezvous points. We're going to Mustafar."


	16. Yoda

"You trust him?" Admiral Ackbar said in disbelief. "Mon"— 

He didn't have time to finish as a pilot from Red Squadron ran into the room, breathing heavily and pale-faced. "Mon Mothma!" he gasped. "AT-ATs on the horizon!"

Mothma paled. "Carry out an evacuation immediately," she snapped to members of the High Command. "Skywalker, I'll deal with you when we reach Mustafar," she snapped. "Solo, you too."

Without a word, the two friends left the audience chamber and Han grabbed Luke's shoulder. "You're not going to Mustafar, are you?" he asked shrewdly.

Luke stared at him for a second before shaking his head. "No," he admitted. "I'm going to Dagobah. I have to become a Jedi."

Han's gaze clouded over. "Kid…"

"What?"

"Yodi, or whatever his name is, he's dead," said Han slowly. "I dunno who sent you there, but…"

"He's not, Han," said Luke heavily. "He's been in hiding. Obi-Wan told me."

Han raised his eyebrows and stared at his friend for a few moments. "Luke…?"

"A ghost," Luke said shortly. "It happens when a Jedi dies, I guess."

"Luke, you were… delirious," said Han gently. "You probably just invented it in your mind. I think you should come with me on the Falcon. Let someone else pilot your X-Wing."

"No," said the Jedi-in-training stubbornly. "I didn't invent it. I've got to go to Dagobah, Han. It's the only way I can become a Jedi and save my father."

"What if he don't wanna be saved?" Han questioned, crossing his arms. "You don't know that he thinks he needs savin.'"

Luke's eyes narrowed. "I'm going to, whether he thinks he needs to be or not," he said firmly. He gaze softened and he touched a hand to Han's shoulder. "Don't worry about me," he said lightly. "I've got to do this."

Han sighed. "Fine. I'll tell the High Command when we get to Mustafar."

Luke grinned. "Thanks."

"Captain Solo told me you're not going with the rest of us."

Luke looked up from his room as he hastily packed his few belongings. Whatever else he had was on the Falcon. "I'm not, Terzé," he acknowledged the armored man in the doorway. "Jedi business."

"Jedi, or Sith?" Terzé asked lightly.

Luke's eyes narrowed. "Jedi."

"Do you know the difference?"

Luke felt a prickle of discomfort from the man's questioning. Who was he, and how did even he know the difference between the two? "Yes," he said shortly.

Terzé crossed his arms. "You will be the last Jedi," he said slowly. "Good luck."

Luke didn't have time to ask what he meant as the man sidestepped past the jamb and returned to the corridor, presumably to help Lady Amidala with her things. Furrowing his brow, he slung the bag over his shoulder and walked out of the room, heading for his X-Wing.

Several pilots were already in the air and shouting instructions. Half of the full complement was to escort the shuttles through hyperspace, and the other half was supposed to try and combat the massive AT-ATs, or at least, try to stop them from reaching the base before it was completely evacuated. Luke jumped in his starship and powered up, snapping on his helmet as he did so. "Rogue 2, in position," he called over the comm.

"Rogue 2, you're to come with me," Wedge Antilles' voice instructed. "Let's go!"

Soon, Luke and five others X-Wings had left the base, not needing any directions as to the location of the AT-ATs. Luke cast the Force over the Millennium Falcon, making sure that Han and Chewie were aboard and safe, and grinned when he heard Han's startled swear. I _Damn, the kid's dad sure comes with a bang. /I _

Returning his attention to the lumbering, four-legged machines, Luke made sure his father wasn't aboard any of them and then set to the task.

With Wedge acting as his wingman, Luke swooped in and took out the first AT-AT's shield generator on the underside. Immediately, two more X-Wings attacked the engines and the AT-AT partially exploded. Luke grimly shut out the death cries of those aboard and brought his X-Wing up, unused to atmospheric flying.

"Nice shot, Rogue 2," said one of the pilots appreciatively. "Let's go to the next one before they take out the power generators."

"Does anyone know how they got here so quick?" another pilot questioned. "We were careful to hide our tracks."

Luke brushed back a stab of guilt and focused on evading the shots of the next AT-AT. He banked hard left as one of the shots managed to hit his shields and pulled up, allowing one of the other pilots—Terzé, he realized, from his Force-signature—to make an accurate shot at the shield-generator.

Terzé pulled up again to slide back into position to Luke's left, and he recognized the maneuver from standard TIE formulations. More proof of their earlier training. Thinking back on his training as a TIE fighter pilot, Luke was hit with an idea. "Rogue 3," he said, calling Terzé's number. "Let's give 'em a little of their own medicine. Anyone know Split V-Formation?" he questioned, naming the maneuver he had in mind.

He heard a soft laugh over the comm that came from Terzé. "Good thinking, Rogue 2. Rogue 6, 7, 4, 9, pull back." Terzé proceeded to explain the formation to the rest of the group and then called for himself and Luke to lead the split teams.

They eased the X-Wings into position and powered their thrusters toward the remaining two AT-ATs, veering off into two separate V-formations with three pilots each. Luke's group rose into the air and spread out, diving low to hit the AT-AT. Terzé's group banked right and tore around, heading for the next one.

"Rogue Squadron, get out of there!" General Rieekan's voice said. "The last shuttle has jumped into hyperspace!"

"Yes, General," said Luke, pulling up, wincing as his left wingman's ship blew up as the last few shots of the AT-AT hit him. "Let's go, Rogue Squadron."

They slipped back into a unified V and rose swiftly. Setting his plan into action, Luke called over the comm, "Go ahead, Rogue Squadron. I'm having trouble getting my hyperdrive online," he lied.

"Don't wait too long," one of the pilots advised. "I've just heard that it's the I _Executor /I _ up there. If you get caught, you'll be in some deep trouble."

"Thanks for the warning," said Luke as the other X-Wings climbed into space and disappeared. "Artoo?" he questioned, and read the quick reply from his astromech. "Set course of Dagobah," he instructed, feeling a little nervous. "That's where we've got to go."

"What do you mean, he's not coming with us?" Leia asked in complete disbelief.

Han turned away uncomfortably. "He says he's got to go become a Jedi," he told her.

"And you I _let /I _him?" Leia said incredulously. "Han, Luke's one of our best pilots, and he was the one to send us to Mustafar! What if you just let him go back his father? What if you just helped him betray the Alliance?"

Han's eyes narrowed. "You know just as good as I do that Luke's no traitor, Your Worshipfulness, he said angrily. "He's tryin' to help the Alliance, not trap it!"

"Then why wouldn't he come with us?" Leia retorted. "It looks just a bit suspicious, don't you think?"

Han crossed his arms. "I told you, he went to take lessons from Yoda," he said icily. "He says the Jedi is still alive."

"Impossible," Leia responded. "Darth Vader took care of that." A flash of disgust and anger passed through her eyes that Han ignored.

"Well, I'll take Luke's word over yours," Han said angrily. "Seeing as he's the Jedi and you're not."

"You're Force-blind," Leia replied furiously. "He probably pulled a mind-trick on you!"

Han gritted his teeth. "Luke wouldn't do that. I know the kid a little better than you, Your Highnessless," he spat. "And if you think he's gonna go and betray us, then you obviously don't know him as good as you claim." With that, he spun around and returned to the cockpit, slamming in a few codes on the door Leia didn't need to test to know that she was locked out. She sank into a chair, feeling guilty for her actions. Han was right that he knew Luke well, but still… The 'what-ifs' echoed in her mind, making her nervous. With a sigh, she curled up into a ball.

The base had been evacuated. Vader stepped through the remains of the building in disgust. His son wasn't here, he had recovered, but he had realized his actions soon enough to warn the Rebels. He had then disappeared into hyperspace. Vader clenched his fists. They had soundly defeated the Rebels here, and his master would be pleased, but something still bothered him. Palpatine's attitude of late had been almost patronizing, as though he was continually testing his apprentice. Vader harshly shoved the idea that his master knew what he had done to save his son to the back of his mind. If that were the case, then he would have been punished long ago.

The question was now, where had the Rebels gone? They didn't have the time to set up another base. This one was supposed to have been their sanctuary, and only Luke's cry for help had notified Vader of its location. They had left several ships and medical equipment behind, no doubt in a rush to leave, which meant that they were probably lacking in resources.

Where would they go? Deciding to try and figure out this puzzle aboard his ship in meditation, Vader turned to the officer at his side, who was shaking with cold. "Find any survivors," he ordered. "Bring them to detention cells after insuring survival."

"Yes, my lord," said the man, retaining enough dignity not to chatter. With that, Vader whipped around and strode back to his shuttle.

"Are we there, Artoo?" Luke asked after stirring himself from the fitful sleep. Even if able to complete a long-distance hyperspace trip, his X-Wing was not the most comfortable mode of transportation. He stretched out his arms in the limited space and waited for the droid to reply. "Good," he said when the droid told him that they would reach Dagobah shortly. "Take us out of hyperspace when you're ready, Artoo."

Luke settled back to calm his nervousness. What would happen? What would the Jedi Master teach him? What would he look like? A darker thought entered his mind: What if Yoda refused to train him because of his father? Knowing that his presence would alert any respectable Force-sensitive once he reached the planet, Luke added another layer to his shields and carefully reigned in his emotions and repressed his fear and apprehension. Those, he was sure, were not ones to which a Jedi should be subject.

Soon after, he felt the ship shudder as it exited hyperspace as he took the controls, setting himself to land on the planet. Artoo had informed him that the world was completely uninhabited, and once again, Luke wondered why the Jedi Master had chosen such a remote place to live. He eased the starship into the atmosphere of the planet and began to orbit, feeling for a Force-sensitive presence to land near.

He felt a burst of light from close by and immediately brought the X-Wing around, sure that it had been a manifestation of the Force. He piloted the ship deeper into the atmosphere and noted with dismay that it was night on this side of the planet. He reached out with the Force to guide him as he attempted to land through the heavy fog and expertly maneuvered the controls into the small clearing that the Force told him existed. Finally, he felt the X-Wing set down and he began the power-down sequence and shut off the life-support system on his flight suit. Once again quelling his nervousness, he opened the cockpit and jumped out, using the Force to soften his landing. On the other side, Artoo joined him on the ground and promptly broadcasted something to the ship, which responded by turning on several lights.

"Thanks, Artoo," Luke said quietly, turning to view his surroundings. He seemed to have landed on the only visible solid ground—he was completely encircled by marshlands and large trees with hanging vines. Gingerly, he removed his flight suit and called his lightsaber to his hand from the cockpit, hooking it onto his belt. He stretched out with the Force, and was amazed at the amount of energy that surrounded the place. It was as if the very land pulsed with it. He noticed a rock next to the ship and sat down, calling a survival pack from his ship next, when he tensed.

Someone was near.

He was careful not to show his awareness of his observer, and resumed unpacking the survival pack. Was it Yoda?

He felt the presence draw nearer, and to his dismay, he was unable to tell the intruder's intentions. Waiting until whoever it was had drawn close, he suddenly whipped around, drawing his lightsaber and holding it at an angle, when it was jerked from his hand and sent flying to the ground.

Now sure that he was being attacked, Luke called the weapon back to his hand and held it ready, back slowly to the side. His assailant was near, he could tell—

"Attack, you would, before asking questions," said a voice suddenly in the darkness.

Luke turned slowly to see a green-skinned, pointed-ear creature as high as his knee sitting on the rock he had used to catalog the contents of his survival pack. Through his surprise, Luke managed to discover that the creature was extremely Force-strong, and he realized with a start that this was Yoda.

He dropped to a knee. "My apologies, Master Jedi," he said quickly. "I thought you were attacking me."

Yoda observed him for a second. "Come to ask me to train you, you have," he said finally.

Luke's heart leapt in his mouth. "Yes, Master Yoda," he acknowledged.

"Why?"

He was thrown off by the question. "I wish… to become a Jedi, Master," he said furrowing his brow in confusion. "Like my father."

"A Jedi your father is no longer," said Yoda, and Luke detected a note of sadness. "A Sith he has become. An enemy of the Jedi Order, he is. Corrupted by the Dark Side."

"He can come back," said Luke forcefully. "He will. I know it."

"Much Darkness there is in you, young Skywalker," said Yoda shrewdly. "Much anger. Much fear."

Luke swallowed his nervousness. "I have rejected it, Master Jedi."

"Calls to you, it does. No return there can be from the Dark Side," said Yoda firmly. "Killed, you have."

Guilt burst in Luke's heart. "I have returned," he said firmly. "I have no desire to join the Dark Side."

"Train you, I will not," Yoda said finally. "Too strong are your emotions."

"Master Yoda," said a new voice, and Luke turned sharply to see Obi-Wan sitting on a log.

"Obi-Wan!" he said in surprise, and his father's former master smiled sadly at him.

"Master, he must be trained," Obi-Wan said firmly. "He is our last chance. He is all there is left. He is the only one who can defeat the Dark Side."

"Defeat the Dark Side?" Yoda said skeptically. "Resides in him the Dark Side does, Obi-Wan."

"We must believe he has returned," Obi-Wan persisted. "He will be the last of the Jedi."

"My father is a Jedi," Luke interjected stubbornly. "He I _will /I _come back."

Both Jedi Masters turned to him. "Your father is gone, Luke," said Obi-Wan firmly. "You must let him go. He belongs to the Dark Side."

"No," Luke said, carefully keeping his anger in check. "I don't accept that. There _is _good in him."

"A great Jedi, Vader once was," said Yoda softly. "Become the greatest of all, he could have. Turned his back on the Order, he did. Killed the Jedi, he did. Killed the younglings. Betrayed himself, he did. Because of his fear. The same fear, you have."

Luke was silent for a moment. "He didn't think you trusted him," he said finally. "He thought his only option was to turn. I know better. I won't fail, and he will return, whatever you say." Both Jedi said nothing for a while. "I I _am /I _a servant of the light," said Luke at last. "I won't turn. But I must be trained, Master Yoda."

"He is right, mostly," Obi-Wan seconded. "And he is all we have left."

Yoda thought for a while. "Train him I will," he said finally. "Learn to control his emotions, he must."

Luke beamed. "Thank you, Master Yoda."

Yoda turned to him. "Come with me, Padawan," he said finally. "A test."

"Stay behind for now, Artoo," Luke told the droid, who replied in a series of angry beeps and whistles. Yoda waited patiently, and Luke soon turned his attention back to the diminutive Jedi Master. "I'm ready, Master Yoda," he said respectfully.

The small Jedi nodded once and turned, hobbling down from the stone and walking past the X-Wing, clutching a small walking stick in hand. Luke followed him into the darkness, using the Force to tell him where to step. He suddenly saw lights blinking up ahead and upon further inspection, realized that he saw a tiny hut in the distance. He started to head towards it, but a quick rap on the knees with Yoda's walking stick stopped him. "Not there," the Jedi said firmly. He turned towards the opposite way. "In there you must go," he told Luke.

Luke turned where the Jedi Master pointed, and then felt it—the deep, dark feeling of immeasurable power, of cold and anger—

He swallowed. "The Dark Side."

"Strong with the Dark Side of the Force, that cave is," said the Jedi Master. "Defeat it you must, if you will be trained."

Luke stayed put for a moment, and then walked towards it purposefully, a hand on the hilt of his lightsaber.

"Need a weapon, you do not," said Yoda.

Luke turned towards him. "I think I'll keep it," he said uneasily, and turned back, stepping inside the dark, peculiar cave a moment later. The Darkness threatened to overcome him, but Luke stubbornly pushed it away, calling instead on the feeling he had experienced when Yoda had accepted him as a student.

He froze, suddenly, as he heard footsteps in the cave. He looked up, using the Force to help his vision, and saw with some surprise his father and the Emperor walk towards him. "Kill him, Lord Vader," the Emperor croaked.

Luke knew it was an illusion, and made no move to do anything. He knew his father wouldn't hurt him, even at the command of the Emperor. He had proven that already.

He jumped back in shock when his father ignited his lightsaber, and said, "As you wish, my master."

Luke's eyes widened. "Father, what are you doing?" he asked nervously.

The Dark Lord made no response, and Luke stumbled backwards. "Father, stop it! You promised!"

"My promises are nothing against the command of the Emperor," said Vader darkly.

I _This is not my father /I , _Luke thought to himself. The Dark Side was creating an illusion to scare him and tempt him to join with it. He narrowed his eyes as his father's simulacrum stalked towards him.

His heart sunk. Everything was the same—the way he walked, the breathing, the way he held his lightsaber, even—Luke was forced to block when the faux Vader brought down his saber in a powerful cut. "Stop it!" he shouted as he parried another swing. But he made no reply, and Luke realized with a jolt that who stood in front of him was purely Darth Vader—as his father had been before his arrival, which meant that he would have no qualms about destroying him. His father—his real father—was Anakin Skywalker, and had slowly begun to reemerge the day that he had learned he had a son.

He grimly blocked another thrust and eased to the side. He wouldn't be able to win, but he had to find a way to escape. "Excellent, my friend," the Emperor said. "Destroy him!"

Obediently, Vader raised his saber for the killing blow, and Luke felt a wave of disgust roll through him. The Emperor used Vader as a puppet! He would I _never /I _allow himself to become that! He blocked the swing and scrambled out of the way. He wouldn't attack. That wasn't the Jedi way. And he I _would /I _be a Jedi. He fought back a cry of pain as Vader found a way past his defenses and sliced his right arm open at the top, laying it clean to the bone, but thankfully not severing it. Luke decided that that was enough, and extinguished his saber. He turned and sprinted out of the cave, leaving Vader and his master behind.

Once outside, he realized that it was light out. Grimacing, he looked at his shoulder and saw that the injury was still there. Not as much as an illusion as he thought, then. Hissing in pain, he ripped his sleeve at the shoulder seam and pulled it down, wondering if he had any Bacta in the X-Wing.

"Fight your father, you did not," Yoda said, and Luke looked up to see him peering at him thoughtfully. "Interesting, this is."

"That wasn't my father," said Luke tightly as he fought to control the pain.

"That is what Anakin has become," said Yoda firmly. "Exist, Anakin Skywalker does not."

"You're wrong," said Luke, equally sure, and surprised at his audacity. Yoda didn't argue further.

"Your injury, we must tend," he said. "Into my house you must come."

Luke followed Yoda into the dimly lit hut and sat on the floor as the Jedi went to the kitchen and returned with a strange salve and a bandage. "Bacta?" he asked hopefully.

Yoda shook his head and took Luke's arm. "Teach you to heal, I must," he said finally. "Into meditation, you must go," he instructed, and Luke obediently closed his eyes. "Feel the injury, the damaged muscle. Use the Force to stitch it in place, you must. Use the energy to repair it, you can."

Luke let himself sink into the energy around him and focused on the pain in shoulder. He grabbed for the energy and pulled it to him, mentally willing it to do as Yoda instructed. Finally, he opened his eyes again. "Good," said Yoda. He looked down at his shoulder and saw that it was still a cut, but much shallower and very red. He smiled.

Yoda applied some of the salve and wrapped the injury with a length of cloth. "Sleep," said Yoda at last. "Continue training tomorrow, we will."

"That's our new base?" Han asked Chewie doubtfully as they exited hyperspace and saw the molten planet below them. He swallowed nervously. "Doesn't look too friendly."

Chewie roared his agreement and turned his head to the cockpit door when a soft knock echoed into the cockpit. He looked at Han questioningly as the smuggler's face went taut. He pressed two buttons harshly and ignored Leia's entrance. "I'm sorry for the way I acted," she said stiffly. "I overreacted. I know that Luke would never betray us." Han stubbornly persisted to ignore her as he piloted towards the coordinates Mon Mothma had given him. "Han…" she said, sounding far more vulnerable than ever before. "I'm sorry. I'm just scared."

He froze. Never, ever, had she admitted that she was frightened. He turned slowly and saw that, indeed, her face was pale and she looked as though she hadn't slept. His heart softened. "It's okay," he said roughly.

"Thanks," she whispered. "That's Mustafar?" Her voice had changed, and she was back to being Princess Leia. Han smiled slightly to himself.

"Yep," he told her. "Not exactly my top choice."

"Not mine either," Leia agreed. "I asked Luke about it, but he wouldn't tell me anything, only that we would be safe here. What do you know?"

Han tensed. "This is where…" he debated. Should he tell her? "His dad got injured," he said finally, deciding to be vague.

"Injured?" Leia asked skeptically. "The respirator?"

"Yep," said Han again. If that's all she thought was wrong with him, he wasn't going to stop her.

"I see. It makes sense that he wouldn't want to come here," Leia said thoughtfully. "Luke's right. We will be safe."

They descended on a landing pad and Chewie voiced his concerns. Far below them, there was a lava flow. The landing pads jutted out from a rock mountain and connected to several large buildings also perched on the volcanic rock. "I'm with ya, pal," said Han. "I've got trouble believin' this is safe to breathe," he said doubtfully.

"I did some research on it," said Leia instantly. "The air far above the lava is safe, but once you get close to the surface, the toxins are extremely dangerous. When combined, they combust." She shivered. "If that's what Vader inhaled, then it had to be pretty painful. His lungs would have been burned from the inside."

Han winced and thought to himself, I _burned from the outside, too, Princess. i/ _"Let's go," he said aloud, standing. "We should go help."

Amidala stepped onto the landing pad gingerly. Why in the name of the Force had they chosen Mustafar? Why? She felt Terzé's comforting hand on her own, guiding her, and she was grateful for his help. This was where she had last seen Ani. He had been so angry, so confused… Amidala knew that it was only because he was worried for her, but the memories of that awful night still haunted her. The look of utter betrayal in his eyes had stabbed her heart.

"All you all right, my lady?" Terzé asked quietly.

Amidala was glad for her veil as it hid her tears. "Fine, Terzé, thank you," she said softly as the memory of his last words to her rang in her mind. She bit her lip. How she longed for him! How she wished that he was at her side! She took a deep breath. "Let's go inside," she said to her handmaiden's son, and he nodded, obviously concerned for her. She hadn't told him much about Mustafar, but he knew that this was the place that had haunted her dreams for years.

Once inside the dark building, Terzé immediately rushed her down to one of the other landing pads, and Amidala saw with some relief her daughter heading towards her. "Mother," Leia said with a smile. "Walk with me?"

"Of course," said Amidala weakly.

Leia sensed somehow her distress—like her father used to, Amidala noted with despair—and took her arm. "What's wrong, Mother?" she asked gently.

"Just tired," Amidala lied.

Leia was about to ask the real reason, her mother noted, but she stopped herself. "Get some rest, tonight," she said finally.

"I will, darling," Amidala agreed, knowing that no amount of rest could ever soothe the hurts—old and new—that plagued her.

Vader stood at the bridge of the I _Executor /I _, hands behind his back. What was the next move? Palpatine had told him of his plans to build another Death Star, and Vader was sure that it would provoke another attack by the Rebels.

He still did not know where they were.

They had all used relatively uncharted and unused hyperspace routes, and those he had managed to track had made several stops and direction-changes to throw him off. He hated to admit that it had worked. Was Luke with them? He had felt his son's sudden happiness and hope a few days past, but hadn't tried to contact him. After Hoth, Vader doubted that his son would be too pleased with him. He hadn't sensed anyone near him, however, which bothered him. Where was Luke, and why had he been separated from the other Rebels? Shouldn't he be with the smuggler and the wookiee? Vader immediately regretted entrusting his son to the smuggler's care. He had been the only option at the time, but he should have told Luke to go to a safe, Outer Rim planet and leave the smuggler then. Now, when he most needed his son to be protected, Solo left him!

"My lord?" A short, nervous captain who looked to be about twenty-five standard years inched up the bridge to Vader's side. He turned slowly as his anger at being interrupted sparked.

"What is it?" Vader snapped. His son's safety was far more important than any petty detail the officer had obviously been forced to deliver.

The captain looked terrified. "We received a transmission from Imperial Center, my lord," said the man, his words coming out in a frightened rush. "The Emperor wants to speak with you."

Vader was substantially surprised. When was the last time that Palpatine had requested him in such an informal way? "Very well, Captain," he said finally. "Redirect the call to my private communications chamber," he instructed, striding off of the bridge to the palpable relief of the officer, whose acquiescence he didn't bother to wait for.

It was a walk of several minutes to the communications room, and Vader allowed himself time to think of possible topics. Hoth would of course be one, but there was no reason that Palpatine would be angry with him—or annoyed enough to send such an impersonal request to speak with him.

What would anger his master?

The answer came to him instantly. Luke. If, as hard as he had tried to hide him, the Emperor had found that Luke was still alive, and worse, that Vader had lied to him both originally and about the pilot of the Death Star, the results would be disastrous.

An ominous feeling of dread crawled up Vader's spine. What would happen now?


	17. A Failed Apprentice

Vader stepped inside the communications room with growing dread. He stepped up to the broadcast pad and waved a hand at the console, and soon the Emperor's larger-than-life holo was before him. He said nothing.

"I am most displeased," said the Emperor, making no move to tell his apprentice to stand. Vader waited patiently. "I have given you many chances to prove yourself, Lord Vader."

"Yes, my master." The accustomed response slipped out.

"You are to return to Coruscant immediately."

"Master?" Vader allowed himself slight curiosity as his dread ate away inside.

"I have a special task for you," Palpatine croaked. "A task for a true apprentice."

A true apprentice? What did that mean? "Yes, my master," said Vader automatically, and noted with detached interest as Palpatine's nostrils flared in barely-contained contempt.

"Get out of my sight." The command was particularly venomous.

"As you wish, my master," Vader replied, turning off the projection quickly and standing, his respirator responding to his rising levels of stress. There was no doubt in his mind. Palpatine knew.

"Feel the Force, you must," Yoda intoned. "Breathe, it does. Let it take your anger. No emotion there is, only peace."

Luke slammed his hand—his right hand, thankfully—down on the rock. "I can't do it, Master Yoda!" he said, frustrated. The little Jedi Master looked at him for a moment. "Every time I try to visualize it, I remember what happened to my father. What Obi-Wan did to him. What the Emperor did to him," Luke said disgustedly. "Why can't I do it?"

"Learn to do this, you must," said Yoda gently. "Only then a Jedi will you become."

"It's not fair," Luke said darkly. "I shouldn't have to do this."

"Fair, life is not. Fair, trials are not," said Yoda firmly. "Open yourself to the Force. No room is there for anger in a Jedi. No room for fear. No room for frustration."

Luke sighed and ran his hands through his hair. He had tried to do as Yoda said for the two weeks he had spent with him, but thus far his efforts had been unproductive. Yoda had taught him minimal combat techniques, saying that Vader had done a good job of it, and insisted that Luke's mind was not ready. "How can I do this? We've been at it forever, Master."

"900 years have I trained Jedi," said Yoda after a moment. "Never has a student been taught in the Dark Side before he has come to me. Never have I had to reverse the Darkness."

"So you don't know?" Luke said bitterly. He sighed. "Naturally."

Yoda looked at him solemnly. "Show me what to do, the Force will. Let it in, you must. Subject yourself to the Force, you must."

Luke slid to the ground. "That's what I've been doing," he griped. "All the Force wants to show me is Mustafar."

"No," Yoda said sharply. "Holding on to anger, to hate, to fear, you have been. No connection there can be with the Light Side. Too easily the Dark Side flows in you."

"It's not my fault!" Luke said, frustrated. "I didn't even _know _there was a Dark Side before Obi-Wan told me!"

"Lie, you do," said Yoda. "Knew, when killed the boy you did."

Luke shrank back as if he'd been slapped. "I never meant to kill him," he whispered, turning away. "I was just angry."

"Angry. A path to the Dark Side, anger is. Let it control you, you have."

"Once," said Luke quickly. "I never killed anyone else."

"No?"

Luke cringed. "But that was for the greater good. I didn't want to do it."

"But in anger, in pain, you did it," said Yoda quietly. "When Vader killed your friend, let your anger flow through you, you did."

Luke slumped. "What can I do?" he asked quietly.

Yoda moved to sit behind Luke and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Be at peace," he said gently. "Isolate your anger. Let the Force take it."

For the first time, Luke truly did as he was told and a few seconds later, he opened his eyes. "It worked!" He breathed, and beamed. "I did it!"

"Yes," said Yoda thoughtfully. "Do this always, you must. Feels hate, a Jedi does not. Feels anger, a Jedi does not. Remember this."

"Yes, Master Yoda," said Luke respectfully, emboldened by his success.

"Done enough, we have," said Yoda at last. "Rest."

Every step he took was more difficult than the last.

Was he walking to his death? To Luke's? Vader was careful to maintain his pace and normal calm, but his mind was raging behind the delicate shields he kept in place at all times. After the Emperor's order, he had done as commanded and returned to Coruscant, leaving the newly promoted Admiral Piett in command of his ship.

How angry was the Emperor? If Vader knew the man at all, he would try to twist this new information about Luke to his own advantage, but how? And what would he do to his apprentice? Vader had long ago stopped considering the idea that Palpatine would physically harm him—seriously, at least. Palpatine knew that his body wasn't capable of surviving much more, and if the machinery was damaged, he would be a helpless invalid, or dead.

Unless, that was what he had in mind, and wanted to remove him. To take a new apprentice.

Luke.

Behind the mask, Vader's eyes widened. _No_. Had his actions only condemned his son to the hell his father had willingly entered? Had all his protections merely prolonged the inevitable?

Swallowing his fear for the moment, Vader walked past the red-robed guards of the Imperial throne room and stepped inside, dropping to one knee easily in front of the throne.

"So." The ruined voice echoed in the chamber. "I have received some interesting news, Vader."

Vader didn't respond. What could he say? He merely kept himself behind a cool mask—not that he needed another one—and waited for his master to continue.

"The Rebel pilot. Can you imagine what his name is, my apprentice?"

Should he respond? What would he say? Would he mock the man by claiming the negative? He chose to remain silent.

"Skywalker. Luke _Skywalker_." The despot made the name sound like blaspheme. Despite himself, Vader flinched. "This is interesting, is it not, my apprentice?"

Vader kept his mouth shut. His son was alive. It was worth any torment his master had in mind, unless he was to take Luke as an apprentice.

With an inhuman cry of anger, Palpatine raised his arms and suddenly Vader flew back and hit the wall. He fell to the ground, surprised. "You disobeyed _me_! You helped that brat escape. You lied."

Vader's body suddenly slid across the ground and he was raised to his feet to stand in front of the Emperor, whose eyes were glowing yellow. "After everything I have taught you, you let the weak, pathetic Anakin Skywalker claim you again," Palpatine sneered. "You have failed."

"Master—" Vader began, true fear beginning to spread throughout his body.

"Tell me why, Vader," Palpatine said, changing his tactic as quickly as the politician in him was wont to do. "Tell me. Why did you save your son?"

Vader said nothing. No words would help him now.

"Tell me, my apprentice," Palpatine continued, the words sounding sickly sweet. "Did you _love _him?"

The armored man flinched.

"You're weak," Palpatine spat, abandoning the mocking approach. "You disgust me." For a second, his rage seemed to abate.

Still Vader remained silent.

He stared at his apprentice—the man he had rescued two decades hence, a burned and blackened cripple, and had resurrected into the most fearsome of monsters the Galaxy had ever seen. "You will still serve a purpose," he said finally, his mouth stretching in a gruesome smile. "Oh, yes. I won't kill you yet."

Vader stood silently. He couldn't escape.

"You, _my friend_, will bring me my new apprentice, since you failed to be a decent one yourself," the Emperor hissed. "Your son."

The man/machine that had once been Anakin Skywalker tensed. _No_.

Palpatine laughed. "Oh, yes. He loves you, doesn't he, Vader? I send him a little dream of your pain, and he will come. He will turn to the Dark Side just as willingly as Anakin Skywalker did in a vain attempt to save his wife. All it will take is a few careful hints. Empty promises."

Behind the mask, Vader gritted his teeth. He had learned, years later, that he had been incapable of saving his Padmé, but to have Palpatine jeer over how easily he had been manipulated was unbearable. He clenched his fists, wishing to wrap them around the man's neck, to crush the life out of him like a petty underling.

"Oh, he will turn," said Palpatine with another cackle. "His _love_"—he spat the word—"is such that he will do anything to save his father. And I will turn him, Vader. I will mold him into the Sith that you could never hope to be. You, with half your midi-chlorians destroyed by the same fire that left you a hardly human! Luke will be the greatest of all the Sith!"

Vader forgot himself. "NO!" He launched himself at the Sith Lord, grabbing his lightsaber in his hands and bringing it crashing down on his master's head.

He didn't get the chance.

Force-lightning poured from Palpatine's hands into his chest and he flew back, his lightsaber clattering to the floor and rolling away from him as the energy flowed through him, melting circuits and electrocuting the prosthetics.

It was Mustafar all over again.

He could feel what was left of his body getting seared by the lightning, the connections between bionic limbs and flesh smoking, charring, the respirator destroyed.

It was _agony._

It stopped.

He gasped for breath, his ruined lungs trying valiantly to get the oxygen for the rest of his body. Dimly, he heard the Emperor's harsh voice. "Take it away. Keep it alive."

He had failed.

Luke was lost.

"NO!"

Luke jerked awake, dripping sweat.

No.

No.

_No!_

He fumbled for a glass of water and found it, his shaking hands spilling the liquid over his bare chest. Had that truly happened? Was his father at the mercy of the Emperor once more? Was the Emperor killing him?

He desperately reached out to the Force to calm himself. He had to think this through rationally.

His father was _dying! _Because of him!

Luke made his decision in a split second. He threw back the covers of his makeshift bed and grabbed his lightsaber. Emperor or no, he would save his father.

"Acting rashly, you are," Yoda's voice echoed in the darkness. Luke froze and gradually the small hut lit itself. Yoda stood, watching him, a sad expression on his face. "Go, you cannot."

"I have to!" Luke cried out. "You don't understand! My father needs me!"

"A Jedi you are not yet," said Yoda firmly. "Defeat the Emperor you cannot."

"I don't want to!" Luke shouted. "I just want to help my father!" He stormed out of the hut, heading for the clearing in which his X-Wing sat.

"Luke, you cannot go," said a familiar voice. Luke whirled around, tears falling down his cheeks. "What do you want, Obi-Wan?" he snapped angrily.

The glowing visage of the Jedi Master was clearly disturbed. "If you go, you are playing right into his hands, Luke."

"I don't care! If I don't go, my father will die," Luke said tightly. "It's more important to save him."

"More important than the fate of the Galaxy?" Obi-Wan countered. "More important than the balance of the Force?"

"This isn't about the rest of the Galaxy!" Luke shouted. "This is about me and my father!"

"Complete your training, you must," said Yoda, who had followed him.

"And just leave him to die?" Luke spat. "No. I refuse."

"If you honor Anakin Skywalker, you must stay," said Obi-Wan. "The Anakin I knew would want you to stay."

"Yeah, and you let him burn alive and you want me to kill him," Luke said angrily. "I'll make my own decisions on what my father wants, thanks."

"Anakin was like a brother to me, Luke," said Obi-Wan gently. "I never wanted to hurt him."

"Shut up!" Luke screamed. "I don't want to hear it!"

Obi-Wan drew back, his brow furrowed. "You are letting the Dark Side take you over, Luke," he said imploringly. "Reject it! Only if you stay here can you become a Jedi!"

Luke ignored him and merely climbed into his flight suit. "I'll come back," he said finally. "I'll finish my training."

"You must let go of your feelings for your father, Luke," said Obi-Wan. "They cloud your mind. Palpatine is using them to draw you to him. A Jedi must not feel as strongly as you do."

"Then I don't want to be a Jedi!" Luke snapped. "My father needs me!"

Both Jedi Masters bowed their heads in sorrow. "If leave you do, forsaken the Jedi you will have.," said Yoda at last. "Turned your back on the Order, like your father, you will have."

Luke's shoulders tensed. "This isn't about the rest of the Galaxy," he repeated. "I'm going." With that, he climbed into his fighter and shut the transparisteel cockpit, readying the ship for takeoff. On the ground, he could see Yoda turning away as if in pain, and Obi-Wan beginning to fade. Gritting his teeth, he turned on his life-support systems and proceeded with the pre-flight checks, blocking out the guilt and worry that he wasn't doing the right thing.

Once his X-Wing was in the air, he said, "Artoo, set a course for Mustafar. We've got to recruit some help." He wasn't foolish enough to think that he could take on the Emperor—and all of Coruscant—alone. Surely Han and Chewie would help him, if no one else would. He had saved Chewie's life once, so he would be able to call on the life-oath that the wookiee had with him. And Han… Han would follow him into any danger, and say that it was his idea all along on the way out. Luke allowed himself a small smile as the craft plunged into hyperspace. He _would _save his father.

Luke fought back a jolt of apprehension as the X-Wing exited hyperspace two days after leaving Dagobah. To know that this was the planet where his father had suffered so much, where he and Obi-Wan had fought was almost too much to bear. He spoke into his comm, "This is Rogue 2, Mustafar Base, requesting permission to land and coordinates."

"Luke! Welcome back! We thought you'd been taken prisoner!" A familiar voice greeted him on the other end. Luke shook his head slightly. The day that they had deserted Hoth seemed like a lifetime ago.

"No, just got bogged down trying to find a replacement for my hyperdrive," he said at last. "Took me a while."

"Well, we're glad to hear you're okay. I'm sending the coordinates of your landing pad right now."

"Thanks," said Luke, cutting the transmission and attempting to quell his raging thoughts and emotions as they drew near to the surface of the molten planet. He fought nausea as the molten lava flows and fumes drifted into the atmosphere, giving an unhealthy orange glint on everything. He allowed Artoo to take the craft to the landing pad, not sure if his nerves would be able to handle it. When the X-Wing finally lowered onto the dock, he saw Han and Leia running towards him from the building. He jumped out of the starship, swallowing bile, and managed a weak grin as they came up to him.

Leia threw her arms around him in a relieved hug—a hug that was watched with some jealousy on Han's part—and Han clapped his hand on Luke's back. "Jedi yet?" the smuggler asked with grin.

Luke shook his head. "That's not why I came here. I need help."

Leia drew back. "What's wrong?" she pressed.

"I'll explain inside," Luke said quickly, glancing at the lava far beneath him. "I'd prefer to get out of here."

Leia nodded sympathetically and Luke realized that Han had told her why Mustafar was such a safe place from the Empire. "Let's go, then," she said. "We can talk in my rooms."

"Where's Chewie?" Luke asked distractedly.

"The Falcon," said Han. "Workin' on the gun turret."

"Let's go there, then, if you don't mind, Leia," Luke said heavily. "I need to talk to him, too."

She nodded. "Of course." They walked swiftly into the building perched on the rocks and Luke noted that they had transformed it into a large hangar. To the far left, the Millennium Falcon sat, annoyed roars coming from within.

Once they managed to get inside, Luke, exhausted, dropped onto a chair and put his head in his hands. Chewie appeared a moment later and placed a comforting arm around the young Jedi's shoulders. "What is it, kid?" Han asked, truly concerned.

Luke looked up to him with red-rimmed eyes that showed how tired he was. "My father," he said shortly. Leia flinched despite herself. "He's in trouble."

Han frowned. "What happened?"

"The Emperor found out I was alive, somehow," said Luke. "He called my father back to Coruscant, and is…" He hung his head, guilt ripping at him.

"What?" Han questioned gently.

"He's killing him," Luke whispered. "To get me to come and be his apprentice."

"But isn't Vader his apprentice?" Leia interrupted swiftly.

Luke nodded. "But… when my father helped us to escape, and then lied to the Emperor about it…" He waited for a moment to let it sink in. "He's furious. He's going to keep him alive long enough for me to get there."

Han and Leia's horrified faces and Chewie's angry growl showed they understood. "How d'you know this?" Han asked at last.

"A dream," said Luke shortly. "Like the one of Mustafar," he explained. Han's eyes widened, but Leia grew confused.

"What do you mean?" she questioned, bewildered.

Luke turned to her. "I had two dreams when I lived with my father," he said shortly. "In the first one, I relived his experiences here, when he fought Obi-Wan Kenobi and lost. The second was a little after that, when he was…" Luke stopped, trying to phrase it so that they would understand. "When he was going through operations," he settled on the most vague terms. "Both were completely accurate. This one was the same."

Han let out a slow hiss. "Then he's on Coruscant?"

"Yes."

"And you want to go rescue him?"

Luke nodded. Han and Leia stared at him and the former scratched his head wonderingly. "All right, then," he said with a weak imitation of his usual grin. "We've done crazier stuff."

Luke's jaw dropped. "You mean it?"

Han nodded. "If we can't do it, who can?"

"You're both crazy!" Leia found her voice. She was pale. "Listen, I _lived _on Coruscant," she began, her words spilling out in a rush. "There's no way the Millennium Falcon will get within two parsecs of it without being targeted. And even if you _did _manage to get on Coruscant, you have no idea where Vader is! You'd never be able to get past the Emperor's guards!"

"My ally is the Force," said Luke firmly. "And we're not taking the Falcon."

"We're not?" Han asked stupidly.

"No," said Luke. "It's too recognizable. We're going to Bain."

"What?" Leia asked, her brow furrowed.

"My father's world," Luke said. The idea had dawned on him during hyperspace. "He has a private fleet there. He showed me."

"His _world_?" Han asked in disbelief.

"A _fleet_?" Leia asked in equal astonishment. "As in… battle ships?" she asked weakly.

"Mostly starships, shuttles, and cruisers," said Luke unconcernedly. "But I think he has three prototype destroyers in orbit. The point is; we could take one to his private residence on Coruscant. His shuttles are all cloaked and really fast." Luke could tell he'd made an impression on the former princess when she sank to a chair next to him.

"His own world?" Han repeated to himself in disbelief. "I wonder how much a world costs."

"It was a reward," said Luke in response. He turned to Leia. "I've got to do this. I know you hate him, and I know that he's hurt you, but he's my father. I have to help him."

Leia hung her head. "I'll cover for you," she said at last.

"Thanks, Leia," said Luke, relieved. He stood. "We've got to go now, Han."

Leia stood as well, biting her lip like Luke did when he was nervous. "Please don't get killed," she said to them. She hugged Luke and then turned to Han awkwardly. "Han…"

"Ah, shaddup, princess," Han said, grabbing her waist and pulling her to him, kissing her. Luke laughed out loud. They separated, Leia's face red. "I figured if I'm goin' on this suicide mission I might as well have some fun," Han said, grinning. His face softened. "Take care of yourself, Leia."

Still speechless, Leia nodded and touched a finger to his cheek. "See you soon." With that, she turned and went down the ramp and back to the hangar.

"I told you that you liked her," said Luke, smiling.

Han ignored him. "Let's get ready, then."

"Oh, Master Luke! Master Luke!" Luke turned around to see C-3PO and R2-D2 walking and rolling, respectively, up the boarding ramp.

"Threepio?" Luke asked in surprise. "Artoo, what are you doing?"

The little droid responded in a series of excited beeps. "He says that he thinks you will need a hacker on your mission," said Threepio. "I don't know what's gotten into him, sir. He's so stubborn!"

Luke furrowed his brow. "He's probably right. Come on, Artoo."

"Oh, Master Luke!" Luke rolled his eyes.

"You can come too, Threepio," he said dryly. As soon as the droids were safely inside, he went to the cockpit. "We've got some company," he told Han, who was starting up the pre-flight sequences.

"Huh?"

"Never mind," said Luke, remembering suddenly Han's distaste for the golden droid. "Hey, Chewie, I've got the coordinates, okay?" The wookiee nodded its head and accepted the datapad from the Jedi's hand. "I'm going to try and contact him, okay?" he told Han nervously.

The smuggler looked up. "With your Jedi thing?" he asked mistrustfully.

"Yeah."

Han shrugged. "Go ahead."

Luke nodded and then returned to his bunk of old, sitting down like he had during the three years he had spent as a carefree smuggler. He wrinkled his nose. Not exactly carefree, but the closest he had come since before Uncle Owen and Aunt Beru had died. And now, here he was, a Rebel pilot about to go on, as Han had put it, a suicide mission to save Darth Vader.

Sighing, he slipped into a meditative trance and cautiously asked, _Father? _There was no response, and that chilled him to the core. His father had _always _answered his call, no matter what the time or situation. Luke bit his lip. He would have to actively search for his father's presence, which meant drawing near to the Emperor.

Steeling himself, he reached across the Force. There were only so many Force-adepts, after all. He felt stretched impossibly thin as he searched the Force for the specific signature that was his father.

When he found it, he almost lost his concentration in surprise. His father's presence, normally so strong, was weak. The emotive energy surrounding him was dark, with bursts of love and hope shining through like a sun through clouds. Luke reached down and whispered, _Father?_

He felt his father's presence become slightly stronger, and Luke almost jumped for joy when he responded, _Luke?_

_Are you all right? Where are you? Has the Emperor got you? Are you okay? _Luke asked quickly. He felt a brief stab of pain float across their bond.

_I… Luke, do not come to Coruscant. _His father's mind-voice was weak, but adamant. _The Emperor wants to make you his apprentice. I cannot let you come here. I cannot let you become a slave to the Dark Side as I have._

The admission almost shocked Luke into severing the bond. _Father, you can come back,_ he reminded the man. _I know you can._

_Luke, please don't come! Just let me die here! _ Vader's voice sounded desperate.

_I am coming to save you, Father, _said Luke firmly. _That bastard has had you long enough._

_Don't… Luke… _Suddenly his father's voice went silent and Luke scrabbled for the connection, relieved when he felt that his father was still alive, just unconscious. He eased himself out of meditation, releasing his anger into the Force as Yoda had taught him.

When he opened his eyes, he glanced out the porthole window and saw the familiar streaks of hyperspace. His exhaustion finally overpowering him, he fell back onto his bed and let sleep overcome his senses.

"Kid, we're there, but we need you to pilot the ship. Get up, already!"

Luke opened his eyes blearily to see Han's face staring at him. The smuggler gave him another shake. "We're there?" he asked wearily, sitting up.

"Yeah," said Han. "And we got no idea where to land. It's like the whole planet is rock or water." He wrinkled his nose. "Not much good unless your old man lives underwater or somethin.'"

"No, inside the cliff," Luke corrected with a yawn. He sat up and jumped down from his bunk. "Come on."

Han followed him to the cockpit and Luke sat down with a sigh. "I'm fine, Chewie," he said to the wookiee's concerned question. "Just exhausted. Once we get home, I'm definitely going to order something to eat first."

"Home?" Han asked dubiously.

Luke shrugged. "It's better than Tatooine," he said truthfully. "And it was nice here," he added as an afterthought, remembering Vader's and his retreat to the world. Relying on his memory, he piloted the Corellian freighter down towards the main landmass, expertly handling the craft. Soon, he had landed it on the same dock his father had used so many years before.

"This is it?" Han asked doubtfully. "Are you sure?"

"Yes," said Luke shortly. "I don't remember if he changed the environmental controls, so bring a breather just in case," he instructed Han, who stared at him, confused.

"What environmental controls?"

"He can only take off the mask in an oxygen-rich environment," Luke explained wearily. "When I came here with him, he changed it so that everywhere except his chambers were regular air."

"Oh," said Han. "Chewie, can you get the breathers for us?" he asked the wookiee, who nodded and reached above their heads to get the old, but functional, apparatuses.

"Let's go, then," said Luke, pressing the buttons that brought the boarding ramp down. "Come on."

Han, Chewie, Threepio, and Artoo followed him down the ramp and Luke led the way to the sheer face of the cliff that Luke knew was just the face for his father's enormous hangars and workshops as well as his private residence. Han stared in wonderment as they entered the arched hallway that led deep into the cliffside, watching with even more surprise as the wall brackets that held light-producing plasma lit themselves as Luke walked past.

They had almost reached the end when suddenly, sections of the rock disappeared and several battle droids stepped out that Luke recognized from his brush-in his first day here. They all held a blaster and a lightsaber. "Intruders!" said the first one.

Luke drew his lightsaber but didn't activate it. "I am Master Luke Vader," he said coldly. "And I'm bringing these people and droids with me." Han had jumped back in surprise when the droids exited the supposedly solid rock and his jaw had dropped when he heard Luke's address.

"Kid…" he said, terrified as more droids surrounded them from behind.

"Find QT-28," Luke instructed. "He will verify."

"Imposter!" Another said loudly.

With a sigh, Luke waved a hand and they all clattered to the floor. "I hoped they would just obey," he said. "My father taught me how to turn them off, though."

"Good thing," Han said weakly. "Your dad values his privacy, doesn't he?"

Luke shrugged. "He told me that Black Sun once found out about this place and tried to attack it, so he added the security measures. Anyway, we're going there," he said pointing to the shining door ahead.

"Are there anymore 'security measures' I should know about?" Han asked.

"I don't know," Luke replied truthfully. "He never told me about them."

"That's great," Han muttered to himself, just as they reached the silvery durasteel door that was the entrance to the place. He jumped back as it slid open at a wave of Luke's hand. "Of course," he said weakly. "This is Vader's house. You'd have to use magic to get in."

Luke laughed slightly ahead of him and then pressed the breather over his mouth. Behind him, Han and Chewie followed suit and the smuggler's eyes widened in astonishment as they entered the grand foyer. "Oh my!" Threepio exclaimed. "Master Luke, this is your father's home?"

"Yes," said Luke just as a much sleeker protocol droid than Threepio entered the foyer.

"Master Luke!" The droid said in surprise. "I saw your entrance, and did not have enough time to call off the battle droids. My apologies, sir, but it has been a very long time since they have seen you."

"It's okay, Cutie," Luke reassured the droid. "Can you tell the mainframe to change the environmental makeup to normal?"

The droid—QT-28—gave a little bow. "Of course, Master Luke."

"And…" Luke scratched his head. "Han, Chewie, what do you want to eat?"

Han stared at him. "What?"

"Cutie, do you remember my favorite meal?" Luke asked the droid.

"Of course, Master Luke. Bantha steak with a side of"—the droid responded immediately.

Luke interrupted her. "Four orders, please. Send them to my room, okay?"

"Of course, Master Luke," said the droid, and it turned back to walk down the hall quickly.

"This…" Han said, looking at his surroundings. "This is weird."

Luke shrugged. "We can't stay long. A standard day at most." He looked to the small control panel at the side of the hallway and removed his breathing apparatus as the blinking green light suddenly went solid. "You can take them off," he told Han and Chewie behind him.

They did so and followed Luke down the long hallway. "Where are we going?" Han asked curiously.

"My room," said Luke, stopping in front of a silver door identical to the rest and opening it with a flick of his hand. He stepped inside and fought back the wave of nostalgia that the room produced. Everything was as he had left it—his covers on his bed were even unmade, still. He walked over to his worktable to look at the logic processor he had been modifying. He had been trying to make a psychotic droid, but his father had stopped him. There were two ancient books on saber techniques still lying on his desk, both open to pages detailing how one could throw a saber while lit.

"This is weird," Han repeated with a shake of his head. "Too weird."

"Why?" Luke asked curiously, pulling off his surcoat—he never had changed his style of dress—and throwing it down the laundry chute.

"I dunno," Han admitted. "It's just weird to think you have a bedroom. You were always on the Executor, or with me, or on the move with the Rebellion."

"I haven't been here in a long time," Luke agreed, peering into his closet and almost laughing when he saw the too-small clothes still sitting, folded on the shelves. "I'll tell Cutie to bring me some new clothes. Do you want to take a shower?" Luke offered.

"I took a sonic shower this morning," said Han. "I'm good."

"It's real water," Luke said.

"Really?" Han asked in surprise.

"We are on a planet that is 85 water," said Luke, laughing. "You can take one after the kitchen droid brings our food." His timing was perfect. Just then, a droid with arms welded to a large tray and a single photoreceptor entered the room, the tray laden with several dishes.

"Master Luke, shall I place them on the table?" The droid asked, its vocoder slightly tinny.

"Yes, thanks, I-B32," said Luke, moving aside to let the droid roll forward into his room. It lowered and slid the food from the tray to the table.

"I will return in one standard half hour, Master Luke," said the droid, and it removed itself from the room. Han just stared at the food.

"This is too weird," he repeated again, sitting down at the table and dragging a plate to him. "Is this Neema-fruit?" he asked in disbelief. "This is really rare! Ever since the Empire decided it didn't like Naboo, all crops are governmentally sanctioned. Impossible to get hold of!"

"It's my father's favorite food," said Luke after he swallowed his first bite of Bantha steak. "Like Naboo is his favorite world."

"He can eat?" Han asked in surprise.

Luke's eyebrows raised. "Of course he can. I only ever ate with him twice, but he's capable of doing so. Did you think he powered down or something?"

"No, it's just…" Han struggled to find the words. "No one has _ever _seen him with his mask off. I heard in flight school once that after a fight with a Jedi he killed the doctor who treated him."

Luke flinched. "Well, it's not as bad as you think," he said. "Just really scarred."

"Oh," said Han, furrowing his brow. After a moment, he muttered to himself, "I can't believe he likes Neema-fruit."

After they finished the meal, Luke retrieved new clothes from the large utility chambers that housed the kitchen, laundry, and other needs. When he returned to his room, Han had obviously showered and so he did the same. He dressed in the clothes that he had requested be modeled like the ones he had seen his father wear during their stay at Bain. Luke had the sneaking suspicion that they were basically Jedi robes.

"So what do we do now?" Han asked once Luke had reentered his room.

"We're going to look through his personal terminal," said Luke firmly. "There should be some kind of outline or information on the Emperor's palace there."

"Is there gonna be Jedi droids waiting for us?" Han asked doubtfully.

"No," Luke said immediately. "I don't think so," he added after a moment's hesitation. He left the room and walked to the end, Han and Chewie following him somewhat reluctantly. Luke breathed a sigh of relief when the door easily slid open with a nudge of the Force. He had been afraid that his father would have Force-locked it like he had done sometimes on the _Executor_.

When they entered, Han stopped dead-still. "What is it?" Luke asked impatiently.

Han's face was pale. "I never actually believed you that he was as bad injured as you said," he said weakly, staring around at the extensive medical equipment, the Bacta tank, and the various medical droids that were powered down. The room was completely sterile.

Luke felt a flash of discomfort on his father's part. "He doesn't exactly like to talk about it," he said finally. "So don't ask him about it when we rescue him, okay?"

Han shook his head as if clearing it. "Got it. Man, this is weird."

Luke groaned. "What now?"

With a faint grin, Han gestured at the meditation pod. "I never, ever thought I'd be in Darth Vader's bedroom," he said with a weak laugh.

Luke stared at him for a moment before grinning wearily. "Ha, ha," he said. "We've got to do this. Artoo?"

The little droid rolled up to him. "I know there's a password on this to turn it on and to access the files," he informed the droid. "We need to get past it."

The astromech responded in a few upbeat whistles and rolled over to the computer jack, plugging himself in. Luke turned to face Han, his face troubled as he remembered his father's plight. "What if we fail, Han?" he asked dully.

"We won't," said the smuggler with false bravado. "We can die trying, if anything."

Luke hung his head. "If we die, then the only Jedi left is Yoda," he said, rubbing his temple. "We can't die."

"Luke Skywalker can get out of any mess," said Han. "That's something I've learned over the years. If your old man is anything like you, this should be a breeze."

Luke raised an eyebrow. "A breeze?"

"Yeah," said Han, shrugging.

Luke sighed. "I don't even really know him well. I know Darth Vader, but all I know of Anakin Skywalker are just brief flashes when he lets his persona slip, other than when he let us go, and kept me safe from the Emperor."

"Anakin Skywalker?" Han said in surprise. "That's his name?"

Luke nodded, and Han's eyes grew wide. "What is it?"

"Wow," Han breathed. "Did you know that he's considered to be the best podracer in history? And he's the only human winner in the history of the sport? And that he won the Boonta Eve Podrace when he was nine years old?"

Luke knew vaguely what podracing was, but Han's enthusiasm was bewildering. "No, I didn't know that. How did you? And why is it important?"

"When I was a kid, all I wanted to be was a podracer," said Han, shaking his head in wonderment. "A friend of mine—a kid named Vij—he had seen it, 'cause he'd grown up on Tatooine. I wanted to _be _Anakin Skywalker after that." Han gave a little shudder. "That's weird. How could he be Darth Vader? No wonder he's practically the best pilot in the Galaxy."

"Shouldn't you have guessed when I told you my name?" Luke asked dryly.

Han shrugged. "I figured it was a common name, or something. _Wow_," he repeated. "I have a newfound respect for your dad, kid."


	18. Rescue!

After a while, Artoo withdrew from the terminal and beeped insistently for Luke to come over. Luke hesitantly stepped inside the jaws of the meditation chamber and sat in his father's chair. He peered down at the screen, which was now blank save for a multitude of labeled three-dimensional icons. His fingers itched to look at the file entitled "Luke," but he instead tapped his finger on the one that was labeled "Imperial Center." In an instant, a new datascreen was brought up and several new files opened. Han peered over his shoulder and whistled. "Bit of an organization freak, isn't he?"

"It's his plan for the Empire when he's Emperor," Luke said dryly. "Order to the chaos." It was a theme he had heard his father speak of many times. "He hates disorder for anything."

"Ah," said Han, raising his eyebrows.

Luke tapped on the "Imperial Palace" icon, but to his dismay, a voice-activated window popped up on the screen. He groaned. "Artoo, how can I get past this?"

The astromech tried for a few minutes to bypass it, but the computer was stubborn. "It was definitely my father who wired this computer," Luke said aloud, sitting back in the chair and crossing his arms. "Any ideas?" he asked Han, who backed away, arms raised.

"I dunno anything about computers, kid," the smuggler admitted truthfully. "Don' look at me."

Luke sat silently for a few minutes until he leapt to his feet. "Hold on for a second," he told Han, sprinting out of the meditation pod to an adjoining room. A minute later, he returned with a complicated-looking contraption.

"What's that?" Han asked distrustfully as Luke sank back into the chair, turned on the machinery, and placed it below his mouth and over his chin.

"Vocoder," Luke said, but Han heard Darth Vader's voice echo throughout the chamber. His eyes went wide.

"Wow," he breathed. "You could have some serious fun with that."

Luke grinned, the process slightly hampered by the machinery, and turned his attention to the console. "Darth Vader," he said imperiously towards the terminal.

Nothing happened. Luke frowned. "What am I doing wrong?" he asked Han, who looked very disturbed by his different voice.

"I dunno," Han said at last. "Try his full title."

"Darth Vader, Dark Lord of the Sith." Still nothing happened. Luke slumped back in his chair. "It must be a voice-activated password," he said finally.

"Then what's the password?"

"I have no idea," Luke admitted.

Han jumped as if struck by something. "Try his name!" he suggested. "Try 'Anakin Skywalker.'"

"Why?" Luke asked, confused. "He pretends Anakin doesn't exist."

"Exactly," said Han. "No one knows he's Anakin Skywalker. So no one would be able to guess that."

Just what Han was suggesting finally dawned on Luke. "Anakin Skywalker," he said to the computer, and instantly the files on the palace were brought up. Han smirked. "Thanks," Luke said.

"I'll be sure to let His Lordship know that I broke his little code," said Han, grinning.

Luke's brow furrowed at the mention of his father and Han instantly regretted it. Luke ignored the stab of discomfort from his friend and just focused on the files, searching for the one that he thought he needed.

Finally, he found one entitled "Structural Architecture" and went to it, and instantly a holo of the palace was projected in front of him. Luke stood and examined it closely. Each chamber was carefully labeled.

"So that's where we don' wanna go," said Han, jabbing a finger towards the largest room in the palace—the throne room.

"Exactly," Luke said grimly. "Come on. We have to find a way into this place."

Several hours later, they had come up with a rudimentary plan to avoid all of the Royal Guards that were stationed throughout the palace at regular intervals. "Do you think this will work?" Luke asked Han, staring at the sequential steps he had jotted down on a datapad.

Han scratched his head. "I got no idea." He grinned impishly at Luke. "We'll have to trust the Force," he quipped.

Luke rolled his eyes. "I leave that magic stuff to them Jedi," he retorted, mocking Han.

Han burst out laughing, but Luke sighed. "We haven't got much time. We've got to leave."

"Already?" Han asked, turning serious. "I kind of like this place."

"We've got to choose a ship," said Luke. "You know, he modifies all his ships himself," he told the smuggler. "I can't imagine what he'd do if he saw the Falcon."

"No way is Darth Vader touching my ship," said Han instantly.

"Come on," said Luke wearily, standing and pocketing the datapad onto which they had loaded the blueprints for the palace. He turned and let Han follow him out of his father's chambers and led the way down the hall and through the military room to another hallway that had just one door. When he opened it, Han gasped audibly as he saw the immense room as big as the hangar on the _Executor_. Starships of all shapes and sizes filled the room. The smuggler just walked past Luke, as if in a daze, and wandered around, staring at the snub fighters, shuttles, and cruisers that hailed from all over the galaxy. He stopped beside a sleek, silvery cruiser. "Is that an original Naboo cruiser?" Han questioned in awe.

"Yeah," Luke affirmed. "But we're not here to admire his collection, Han," he reminded the smuggler, who seemed to jerk himself out of his reverie.

"Right," said Han, getting down to business. "Think we'll need one with medical capabilities?" he offered.

"Full life-support," said Luke heavily, his heart sinking. "Let me look," he said, turning to the terminal to the right of the entrance. "He let me look through here once," he explained. "It's a catalog of everything he has, and all the modifications," he told Han, whose eyes widened. He sat down at the terminal and quickly entered the database. A few minutes later, he heaved a sigh. "He hasn't got any former medical ships," he said. "Just a shuttle with emergency life support in case his suit gets damaged."

"Then we'll take that one," said Han instantly. "Where is it?"

"Theta-class shuttle, silver paint," said Luke, pointing towards the ship. "Over there."

"All right," said Han. "Has it got blasters and rations on board?" Luke nodded. "Then let's get Chewie, Threepio and Artoo and go. Of course, we could leave the golden hunk of metal here."

"I don't even know where Threepio is," said Luke, bewildered. "He didn't come with us into my father's chambers."

"Means he likes it here," sad Han with a laugh. "He's got a crush on Cutie."

Luke rolled his eyes. "I'll be right back," he told the smuggler. "I'm going to find them."

Luke reentered the residence and returned to his room, where Chewie had ordered more food from the server droid—it seemed that they were all programmed with various languages. "Chewie, we've got to go," he said, and the wookiee looked up. "We've got everything we need," Luke affirmed to his question. "Do you know where Threepio is?"

Chewie growled the negative and stood, handing out a long, black cloth to Luke. He took it curiously. "What is this?"

Chewie indicated he should put it on, and Luke obeyed the wookiee, his eyes widening in surprise when he saw that it was the outer robe for the Jedi ensemble. He grinned. "Thanks, Chewie," he said gratefully. "Did you order it while Han and I were in the hangar?" The wookiee nodded, saying that he had once known a lot of Jedi and that this type of rescue mission just proved that he was one. "Thanks," Luke repeated humbly. "But we've got to go now. It takes three days to get there, and I don't know how badly my father is hurt." The wookiee nodded again and stood, ushering Luke out the door.

"Oh, Master Luke!" Threepio's panicked voice echoed down the hallway and Luke whipped around, seeing the battle droids from the training room following Threepio, sabers lit. "Help me, Master Luke! They simply won't respond to diplomacy! Nasty, brutish things!" Threepio cried.

Luke waved a hand and they all stopped and deactivated their blades. Caught with an idea, he walked over to the cluster of ten droids and said to them, "I am Master Luke Vader," he said. "You are to accompany us on a mission targeting Royal Guards and storm troopers. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Master Luke Vader," they all said in unison.

"You are not to attack civilians, C-3PO, R2-D2, Chewbacca, or Han Solo," said Luke in the same measured voice. "Our goal is to enter the Palace and retrieve Master Vader. Do you understand?"

They repeated: "Yes, Master Luke Vader."

"Good," said Luke. "Follow me," he said. Chewie growled questioningly at him. "I know what I'm doing," said Luke, his smile wan. "I helped to build them. At least, to rebuild them."

When they returned to the hangar, Han had already gotten the shuttle prepped for flight and the secret exit had opened, showing the bad weather outside. He appeared at the top of the boarding ramp, looking dubiously at the array of droids Luke had procured. "Nice army," he said. "Are they Jedi droids or something?"

Luke nodded. "More like Sith droids," he said. "They attacked me my first day here." He shuddered a little at the memory.

"Well, we're ready for takeoff," said Han. "And I found two suits of extra storm trooper armor. I think we should wear them."

"As a disguise?" Luke asked instantly, and the smuggler nodded. "It'll give us cover for at least a while, until we get to wherever your dad is. Speakin' of which, how're you gonna find 'im anyway?"

"The Force," said Luke shortly, buckling himself in the co-pilot's chair. "Let's get this show on the road," he said finally.

"Done," said Han, sliding into the pilot's seat and strapping himself in. He heaved a deep breath. "Let's go."

The shuttle rose into the air and Han carefully flew it through the tunnel at the opposite end of the hangar. Once they reemerged, it was storming badly and Han rose quickly to get out of the gale, and they were soon in space. "You ready?" the smuggler asked at last.

Luke nodded. "Let's do it.'

"All right, then," said Han, pushing a lever. In an instant, they entered hyperspace.

"I'm going to check on my father," Luke said, standing. "I'll be back in a few." He went to the back of the ship and sat down on one of the exposed seats, clearing his mind and reaching for the Force. This time, however, the swirling energy caught him in a web and slowly cleared to reveal a vision.

_Luke lay on a bed, staring straight at the ceiling. He tried to move his neck from side to side, but he stubbornly remained still. He began to panic as he realized that he couldn't feel or move his arms and legs either. Some kind of mask over the lower half of his face obscured his vision._

_"Lord Vader. Or, shall I say, Jedi Knight Anakin Skywalker?" The voice was mocking. "It seems that your son does not perhaps care for you as much as we thought, hmm?" The voice was broken and harsh, and in the vision Luke felt the urge to cringe. The Emperor. _

_He moved his lips and a weak, hoarse voice, muffled by the breath mask over his face, left his lips. "He's smarter than you thought, you mean."_

_Palpatine let out a cackle. "He will come," he said after his laughter had subsided. "Even now, the presence that is your Jedi son grows nearer."_

_Luke could find nothing to say. He couldn't refute the statement, because they both knew it was truth. He remained silent._

_"And I will turn him," Palpatine hissed. "He will fall, like his pathetic fool of a father __did. And he will watch, and do nothing, as I kill you."_

_Luke felt a burst of desperation. "He won't turn," he said coldly. "My son is not so trusting as I was."_

_"'Trusting?'" Palpatine mocked. "You weren't trusting. You knew what was happening. All you could think was that you had to save your precious wife, your little senator. Padmé. And, like you, Luke will kill the one he will try to save."_

_Immense anger and shame swept through Luke. "You're wrong," he whispered hoarsely. "Luke won't turn."_

_Palpatine laughed. "Nonsense. You already began the process, my former apprentice."_

_"He won't."_

_"Then I shall prove it to you, when he comes to me, and offers his life for yours," said Palpatine. "The last of the Skywalkers will be mine."_

Luke opened his eyes, chilled to the core. His vision—it had happened, he knew it. His father was somewhere in the Imperial Palace, with the Emperor hanging over him, mocking him. He carefully released his anger into the Force, more determined than ever not to turn. He reached out with the Force, feeling for his father's presence, and said quietly, _Don't worry, Father. I won't turn. I swear it._

Vader was too exhausted to respond, but the rush of relief and pride was palpable. Luke smiled through his anxiety. Would they make it in time? Would Palpatine truly wait to kill his former apprentice until Luke was there?

Remembering Yoda's advice to focus on the present, Luke took several deep, slow breaths. He would need his strength for this.

"Are you ready?"

Luke looked up to see Han at the entrance of the cockpit. "As ready as I will be," he said tightly. He stood up and shut his eyes tightly.

"What's wrong?"

"The Emperor," Luke managed through gritted teeth. "He's looking for me. I'm having to concentrate really hard on my shields."

"Shields?" Han asked curiously.

"More magic," said Luke wryly once he opened his eyes. "You don't need them. You're what people call a blind spot in the Force."

"Thanks," Han replied dryly. "Let's get going," he said. "Why don't you pilot?"

Luke nodded and slid into the pilot's chair, using the positioning system to get closer to his father's rarely-used palace next to the Imperial Palace. "Chewie, you're going to have to act as though you're drugged," he said as he manipulated the controls of the modified shuttle. "Two stormtroopers wouldn't be able to handle you." The wookiee asked if Luke would be able to cloak his presence so that it wouldn't be necessary, and Luke furrowed his brow. "I'm not sure," he responded at last. "But the goal is to get to my father. We can't stir up trouble before then, because we need you to get him."

"Why is it you and I can't?" Han asked. "You made this part of the plan without even explainin' it."

"Because…" Luke struggled to explain. After a minute, he pressed the 'autopilot' button and turned to face Han. "Hold out your hands," he told the smuggler.

Han extended them, confused, and Luke rested his right and left hands on his. "Which one is a prosthetic?" he asked next, and Han's eyes widened in sudden understanding.

"The right," he said. "It's way heavier."

"It took a while to get used to," Luke admitted. "Just imagine, first of all, what it would be like if most of your body was that. And then, how much you would weigh."

"I get it," Han said at last. "Yeah, Chewie, you can have that job," he said to the wookiee, who rolled his eyes.

Luke took the controls again, using the Force to insure their safety. Thus far, they hadn't needed to use clearance of any kind, which stirred up a kind of unease in him. Shouldn't they have had some kind of obstacle?

Finally, he lowered the shuttle into the docking bay in the military base below Vader's palace and the Imperial Palace, and immediately a squadron of stormtroopers marched forward. "Let's do it," said Luke weakly, snapping on the helmet to the storm trooper armor that they had changed into earlier.

Han did the same and with a wave of Luke's hand, the battle droids activated and trained their blasters on Chewie. "They're under strict orders, right?" Han asked nervously as he stepped forward to grab Chewie's left arm.

"Yes," said Luke shortly. "They won't fire or draw lightsabers until my command, and then I've ordered them only to attack Royal Guards and stormtroopers."

"Good," said the smuggler, just as the boarding ramp extended with the hiss of hydraulics. They stepped forward.

"Halt!" The squad awaiting them said. "State number and purpose."

"I am KF-20-01," said Luke firmly. "We're here to deliver this wookiee to the interrogation compound. He was captured on a rebel ship."

"Under whose orders?" The stormtrooper said nervously. Luke did a quick mind probe and saw that the trooper was VF-67-04. 04 meant that he was a lower rank than an '01,' which was why Luke had chosen that number. "Admiral Piett's," he said firmly. "Let us pass. The drugs on this wookiee won't last for long."

As if in response, Chewie growled deep in his throat and yanked at his arm, but Han held on grimly. "Very well," said the trooper quickly. "Go on. We'll refuel the shuttle for you."

"Good," said Luke. "Come on, you," he 'snapped' at Chewie, and grabbed his arm, marching forward.

The ten battle droids marched to their sides and behind them, obediently training their blasters on Chewie's head. "Where are we going?" Han hissed.

_Just think what you want to say, and we can communicate like this_, Luke responded into Han's head.

Behind the helmet, Han blanched, and his thoughts were easily loud enough to hear: _What the hell?_

_Calm down_, Luke advised. _We can't draw attention by speaking aloud._

_All right, all right, _Han said finally. _Do you know where we're going?_

_Yes. I can feel my father's presence, and the Emperor's,_ said Luke, with a mental shudder. _There is a turbolift at the end of this corridor. We're going to take it to the bottom level and then we'll have to walk some more, I think, before we reach the medcenter._

"The interrogation block is comin' up, right?" said Han aloud to Luke.

"Yes, it is," Luke replied.

_This is pretty easy, so far, _Han observed. _It's deserted._

_That's what worries me, _Luke said darkly. _It's the middle of a war. There should be a lot more soldiers. This means the Emperor knows we're here. It's a trap._

_Great, _Han thought sarcastically as they stepped inside the turbolift. "Come on, wookiee," he said to Chewie to keep up pretenses. He yanked Chewie's arm and pulled him into the lift.

Chewie roared, Can you still feel him?

_Yes, _Luke responded mentally, widening the projection of his thoughts to include the wookiee. _Listen, Chewie, he will be attached to a respirator. You cannot forget that, otherwise he'll die._

Chewie nodded his head as if agitated, and replied, Don't worry, I'll get him.

_Thanks, Chewie._

The turbolift door opened and they walked forward, the growing sense of anxiety augmented as they entered another abandoned section of the base.

They marched forward down the hall, Luke noting the completely deserted rooms and interrogation chambers. He reached for the Force to calm himself and released his worries, focusing firmly on his goal. They were so close—he could feel Vader's presence. It was weak, too weak, but that simple comfort was enough to reassure him.

"Through this door," Luke said aloud, stopping in front of a large door. "Let's go, wookiee." Mentally, he added, _We need to get out of here as quickly as possible. No one is in that room except for my father, but I can feel the Emperor nearby. He's going to try and trap us._

_I don't wanna stay any longer than necessary, _Han replied certainly.

The door swished open.

Luke paled behind his helmet, which he tore off. Forgetting any semblance of the plan, he rushed to the center of the room, where his father lay on a durasteel table.

Vader was unsuited and wore only a tattered body-suit that left most of his chest and his arms bare. There were scorch marks collected in the center of his chest—where the control box of the respirator was located—and on his neck and chin, where the vocoder was in the suit. Various red, blistering lines where wires had connected his body to the suit marked new injuries on the already scarred skin. The juncture points of his mechanical arms and skin were blackened and the machinery itself was melted in certain spots. At the base of his neck, several wires protruding from the skin had melted. A breath mask connected to a small portable unit lay over his mouth, and his chest rose and fell in an even rhythm.

"Father?" Luke asked desperately. "Father, can you hear me?"

Vader's eyes flickered open and his eyes widened in surprise. "Luke?" he whispered hoarsely. "Luke, what"—he stopped to wait for a breath to force itself into his lungs—"are you doing here?"

"We're here to rescue you," Luke said. "Come on, Chewie, hurry. Don't disconnect the breath mask."

Chewbacca moved into view and roared encouragement to Vader, whose mouth opened in surprise. "Luke, you have to get out of here," he said, straining to make himself heard. "Palpatine wants you to be his new apprentice! You can't let him!"

"I won't turn," said Luke confidently. "Don't worry, Father. Are you in pain?"

"Only my neck," he responded. "I'm paralyzed everywhere else."

Luke inhaled a sharp breath and let go of his anger at Palpatine. "Don't worry," he said gently. "I'm not here alone."

"Uh… Hey, my lord," said Han uneasily. He too had removed his helmet, and his pale, wide-eyed expression showed his discomfort.

"Solo," Vader greeted hoarsely. "Thank you for caring for my son."

Han shrugged uneasily. "Don't worry about it."

"Come on, Chewie, get him," Luke said to the wookiee, who was busy on the other side of the table. "I feel the Emperor. He's getting closer."

"Don't bother, Luke, just run," Vader rasped. "I should've died a long time ago."

"No," Luke said firmly. "I'm getting you out of here."

"Luke—"

"That's enough," Luke said sharply. "Do as I say, Father."

Vader's brow rose in surprise. "I see you've gotten insolent since we last spoke," he wheezed.

"Not insolent," said Luke with the barest hint of a smile that quickly turned into worry. "You ready, Chewie?"

The wookiee nodded. "What's going on?" Vader asked questioningly, just as Chewie reached down and placed the breather on his chest, taking care to avoid the electrical burns, and picked him up.

"Let's go," said Luke, shedding the armor to give himself more flexibility.

"Nice robes," Vader managed.

"Thanks," said Luke. "I can get you some just like them."

"We haven't got much time," said Han, avoiding looking at the Emperor's former apprentice. "Come on."

Luke led the way to the door and Vader caught his first glimpse of the battle droids and choked out a small laugh. With a wave of Luke's hand, the door slid open.

"Ah. You arrived at last."

Luke looked up to see the small, robed figure of the Emperor standing in front of the door, several red-robed Royal Guards behind him. Feeling anger boil up at him at the sight of the despot, he quickly rid himself of it.

"Emperor Palpatine," he greeted coldly.

"My new apprentice," he returned, his croak of a voice giving even Han the chills.

"I will never be your apprentice," Luke said firmly, his voice belaying no fear. "Let us pass."

"I think not," said Palpatine smoothly. "Now that you are old enough, I have no need of the weak fool that is your father. You will become stronger than he ever was, stronger, perhaps, than I am, one day. Join me."

"Never," Luke replied coolly. "My allegiance is to the Jedi and to my father."

"I sense the anger in you, my young apprentice," Palpatine hissed, stepping back. "Your desire, above all else, is to strike me down."

"No," said Luke. "You know nothing of me."

"Fool," Palpatine said scathingly. "Do you truly think that you will be able to leave as quietly as you entered? I had the halls cleared, the guards under orders not to attack you, just so you could see what will happen to you if you defy me." He gestured at Vader's form, Chewie still carrying him gamely. "Anakin Skywalker," he mocked. "Your noble father."

"I would die before I join you," Luke said. "You will not turn me as you did him."

"Enough of this!" Han suddenly yelled. He raised his blaster and shot at one of the guards, who, surprised, didn't dodge, and fell to the ground dead.

Immediately, the guards clustered around Palpatine and drew him back, inadvertently giving an opening for the rescue party to leave.

"GO!" Luke roared, and immediately Han and Chewie, carrying Vader, and four battle droids went forward, moving as quickly as they were able down the hall. The remaining droids filed out of the room, lightsabers lit. "Activate Code 21," Luke said sharply and immediately the droids marched forward towards the guards.

Luke turned and sprinted down to hall, using the Force to enhance his speed. He caught up to Han and Chewie in the turbolift. "Let the droids out first," he told Han, who nodded, pale. "Father, are you all right?" There was no response from Vader. He had passed out. Luke nervously checked his Father's presence in the Force, and found him to be stable. He reached into a pocket and dragged out the comm device to which he was connected to Artoo and Theepio. "Artoo?" he questioned. "Start the warm-up sequences. We'll be there soon."

A flurry of beeps on the other end confirmed the transmission and Luke stuffed it back into the pocket. "There will be storm troopers," he told Han. "Chewie, get my father to the ship at all costs. I can take care of myself."

The wookiee nodded and the turbolift door slid open. Luke stepped forward grimly, the battle droids behind him.

Immediately two squadrons of stormtroopers ran forward, blasters poised to shoot. "GO!" Luke shouted, activating his lightsaber. The stormtroopers stepped back in momentary surprise and then recovered, deciding that they had him. Luke Force-jumped over to Chewie, who was running flat out towards the shuttle, and raised a hand, calling the Force to him to create a shield around the wookiee and his father that would protect them from the lasers.

His eyes widened as he saw, as if in slow motion, a blaster bolt headed squarely for Han's temple. He waved his hand and it veered right, killing a stormtrooper instantly. The shuttle's boarding ramp lowered and Chewie ran up into the relative safety of the vessel, leaving Han and Luke to fight the storm troopers, who had called for backup.

"Han! Go on!" Luke called to the smuggler, leaping over and quickly deflecting several blaster bolts with his lightsaber. The battle droids had activated their lightsabers as well, recognizing the close proximity, and were making quick work of the rest of the troopers.

"Not without you!" Han retorted grimly as several Royal Guards streamed in from the halls.

"We can't get them all, Han," Luke told his friend. "We need to get out of here."

As Luke's lightsaber came within an inch of his nose to block a laser, Han said, "I agree. Let's go!"

Erecting a hasty shield to block the last few blaster shots, Luke grabbed Han's arm and bolted for the boarding ramp, which had just started to lift. "STOP THEM!" An unnaturally loud voice, cracked and broken, roared from the room. Luke tensed as he sensed the Emperor's clawing at his mind, trying to force him to stay. He slid into the pilot's chair and quickly powered up, gunning the thrusters as the hangar entrance began to close.

"Hold on!" he shouted, allowing the Force to direct his hands over the controls. They made it out of the hangar just in time, and Luke immediately activated the modified engines, shooting them from the atmosphere of Coruscant. Already, government cruisers raced towards them. "We've got to go to Bain," said Luke quickly. "Artoo—"

"NO!" Han said at once. "If it was a present from the Emperor, then that's the first place he'll look. Go back to Mustafar!" Artoo obeyed him and a second later, they disappeared into hyperspace.

Luke let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding. "We did it," he said weakly.

Han nodded. "I can't believe I'm not dead," he muttered.

Luke bit his lip. "I'm going to go and check on him," he said, moving to the back portion of the shuttle to see Chewie lay Vader's unconscious form onto the medical bed. "Thanks, Chewie," he said quietly.

The wookiee shrugged and replied that it was least he could do, seeing as Vader had let him go.

Luke moved over and reached for the ventilator that was part of the life-support system on the ship. "Do you know how to do this?" he asked the wookiee, furrowing his brow. Chewie shook his head. "I'll have to wake him up," Luke said unhappily. He pressed a hand to his father's temple, and closed his eyes.

A second later, he returned to consciousness. Vader blinked for a second and then his eyes widened. "Luke?"

Luke managed a small smile. "We got away," he said. "I need to know how to connect the life support."

"Luke, I am going to kill you," Vader growled. "Why did you put yourself into such needless danger? You could have been killed, or worse, made into his apprentice, whether you wanted to be or not!"

Luke waited patiently for his father to stop lecturing. "But we got away," he reminded him once he'd stopped. "And you're safe now. How do I do the life-support?"

"The portable breather is fine," his father replied a second later. "What ship am I on?" he questioned after a moment, furrowing his brow in confusion.

"I think it's called the _Rescuer_, which is apt," said Luke.

"My ship?" Vader asked in some surprise. "Then there's a 2-1B unit in the cargo hold as well as an operating chamber."

"Really?" Luke asked, shocked. "I didn't know that."

"I added it, in case I was ever incapacitated for some reason," Vader explained. "Take me down there. The 2-1B can replace the damaged vertebrae in my neck."

"Are you sure you're up to it?" Luke asked doubtfully. "You don't look so good, Father."

"I'm fine," he replied. "It's the prosthetics that took a beating."

"I think you should wait," said Luke firmly. "You'll get medical care—proper medical care—when we get to the base."

"The base?"

"Yeah. We're going to the Rebel base," said Luke, smiling slightly.

"Are you sure that's wise?" Vader asked doubtfully. "Why would they give me medical care?"

"They will," said Luke. "Now, sleep." He used a bit of the Force on the command, and in his weakened state, his father didn't even notice, just closed his eyes. A second later, he was asleep.

Luke stood and returned to the cockpit and sat down next to Han with a weary sigh. "How is he?"

"Sleeping," Luke replied, his jaw tense. For all his bravado, he was truly worried about his father. "Han, how bad do you think it is?"

"I dunno," said Han truthfully. "But, kid…"

"What?"

"He looks bad," said Han bluntly. "Not just his arms. It's like… he's covered with scars. I had no idea."

"I know," said Luke darkly. "Getting burned alive tends to do that to a person."

Han sighed. "What do you think will happen on Mustafar?"

"Only one way to find out," Luke said after a moment. "Let's just hope for the best."


	19. Padmé Learns The Truth

Another Route

Part 19

Author's Note: Thanks to Moyima for BETA-ing this for me.

:>>>

"Identify yourself, Theta-class shuttle," came a voice over the comm two days later, as they exited hyperspace over Mustafar.

"This is Captain Han Solo," Han replied into the comm. "Where's your commanding officer, monitor?"

"Solo?" the man on the other end sounded surprised. "We thought you'd deserted."

"Is anyone from the High Command nearby, comm monitor?" Han asked, getting annoyed.

"Where'd you go, Solo?"

"A rescue mission to the Imperial Palace. Listen"—

But a new voice interrupted them. "Captain Solo!" Mon Mothma's voice came. "Kindly report to High Command as soon as you land."

"Lady Mothma, we need some medical help," said Han quickly.

"Why? Who was hurt?"

Han exchanged a glance with Luke, who sighed and indicated that he tell the truth. "We've got Luke's dad here, Your Ladyship," said Han uneasily. "He's in rough shape. The Emperor tortured him to try and get Luke to come and be his new lackey."

There was complete silence over the comm. "You mean to tell me that you have Darth Vader on board?" Her voice was eerily calm.

"Yes, but he's unconscious," said Han quickly.

"There is no way I will allow my medical supplies to be wasted on that monster," Mothma said coldly.

Luke gritted his teeth and bent down. "This is Luke Skywalker, Lady Mothma," he said. "My father has pledged his monetary assets, tactical knowledge, and his private fleet to the services of the Rebellion. He can't do any of that paralyzed."

"He's paralyzed?" she asked in some surprise.

"Right now, yes."

"Very well," she stiffly. "What does he require?"

"Full life support and at least two surgeon droids," said Luke instantly. "We'll be down there soon."

"Understood," said Mothma in a clipped tone, and cut the transmission.

"Did he really do all that?" Han asked in surprise.

Luke smiled wanly. "No," he admitted. "But he will."

Han shook his head slowly. "You're on quicksand, kid."

Luke shrugged. "I'm going to go and get him ready for transport," he said finally. "Make sure he's still unconscious."

"Go ahead," Han replied warily, taking the controls.

A few minutes later, they landed on the platform and Han lowered the boarding ramp, moving down to help Luke with the hover-gurney on which his father lay, still unconscious. "Is he okay?" he asked nervously, trying to take his eyes off the electrical burns that marred the skin.

"He's stable," was Luke's terse reply as they guided the gurney down the boarding ramp. He bit his lip to ward off his memories of Mustafar and was grateful his father was sleeping—dealing with those experiences in addition to his medical condition would be difficult.

Mon Mothma strode towards them. "Skywalker, I'll have you know that I don't approve—" she stopped as she saw the man on the gurney, and blanched, clapping a horrified hand to her mouth.

"_That _is Anakin Skywalker?" she whispered. "Your father?"

"Yes," Luke replied shortly.

"That can't be," Mothma gasped. "Anakin… This can't be Anakin!"

"I assure you that he is," said Luke. "My Lady, he needs medical care."

"Yes, of course," said Mothma, collecting herself just as Leia ran to them.

"Han! Luke!" she greeted them, only to pale herself when she saw Vader on the gurney. She, however, kept herself together. "An operating room and adjacent Serious Condition Unit has been prepared," she said firmly.

"Then let's go," Luke said.

Leia had cleared the way to the Medical Wing before she came out to greet them and so the walk to the SCU was undisturbed. "If I may ask…" Mothma began hesitantly. "What happened to him?"

Luke tensed. "It's not my story to tell," he said finally.

"I see," said Mothma as they entered the medical unit.

A 2-1B unit moved forward. "Means of injuries?" the droid asked instantly.

"Extensive electrical shocking," said Luke. "He has bionic arms and legs, which need to be replaced or repaired. He's incapable of breathing on his own unless there's a high level of oxygen concentration. Also, he has a damaged cybernetic vertebrae," Luke finished.

"Reason for the breathing problem?" the Two-onebee questioned as the gurney slid Vader's body onto the bed.

"Lung damage," said Luke. "He breathed in the toxic fumes produced over the lava flows on this planet." Behind him, Leia uttered a little gasp.

"Completely destroyed lungs, then," the personable droid said. "He's a disaster. I'm moving him into surgery as soon as possible, so you all clear out. It won't take long to replace his vertebrae, and then we'll be able to tell the extent of the damage."

"Thanks, Two-onebee," said Luke, backing out of the room with Mothma, Leia, Han, and Chewie following him. "He'll be all right," he said to their doubtful faces.

Mothma shook her head slowly. "Why did the Emperor turn on him?"

Luke clenched his hands before remembering to release his anger. "Palpatine found out that he let me escape when he ordered him to kill me three years ago," he said shortly.

"I see," Mothma repeated. "I think you should get some rest, Skywalker," she said after a moment.

"No," Luke replied, drawing up a chair from the corridor and sitting down, unclipping his lightsaber from his belt. "I have to stay here. I'll stand guard, in case anyone decides to attack him."

Mothma nodded grimly. "Wise move, unfortunately. When he has recovered sufficiently from surgery, I will return to ascertain his legitimacy."

Luke nodded, and Mothma turned and strode down the hallway, leaving him with Han, Leia, and Chewie. "Go on," he said wearily. "I can sleep here. The Force will wake me if something bad happens."

"Are you sure?" Leia asked concernedly. "I can't believe you got away, Luke."

"Neither can I," Luke agreed wanly.

"Kid, you should get something to eat," said Han, rubbing his neck and yawning. "You ate what, one ration bar on the way back?"

Luke shrugged. "I can manage."

"We'll bring you back something," said Leia.

"That's fine," Luke said. "Go on," he said, waving his hand at them.

An hour and a half later, Han and Leia sat down at one of the tables in the mess hall. "I can't believe that that is the same person who tortured me," said Leia quietly, staring into her cup of stimcaf.

"What goes around comes around," said Han in a weak attempt at humor.

Leia looked up. "It's not the time for jokes, Han," she reprimanded the smuggler quietly. He subdued.

"I know," he said heavily.

"Leia!"

She turned to see Amidala, followed closely by Terzé, enter the mess hall. "Hello, Mother," she said softly.

"Captain Solo, I'm relieved to hear that you have returned," said Amidala politely. "Leia, darling, I heard that someone was rescued from the Imperial Palace. What do you know?"

Leia glanced at Han, who shrugged. "Luke and Han went to the Palace to help Vader escape," she told her mother, knowing that the truth would come out sooner or later.

Amidala froze. "What?" Her voice was suddenly hard.

Leia stared at her mother. "What is it?"

"Luke _Skywalker _went to rescue Vader?" Amidala repeated.

"Yes," said Leia, bewildered.

"Where is he?" Amidala asked tightly, her hands trembling.

"My lady," Terzé interrupted, placing a hand on her shoulder.

"Not now, Terzé," Amidala said coldly. "Where is he? Where is that monster?"

"Mother, he's not really in great shape right now," said Leia worriedly.

"I don't care!" Amidala suddenly shouted, the mess hall quieting instantly. She reached forward and grabbed Leia's arm. "Where is he?"

"Mother"—

"THAT MONSTER KILLED MY HUSBAND!" Amidala screamed, shaking Leia's arm. "He killed your father! He nearly killed your brother! How dare you protect him? How dare you?"

Leia and Han froze. "What?" Leia whispered. "My brother?"

But Amidala whipped around and ran out of the mess hall, heading towards the medical wing.

Leia stood there for a second, unmoving. She had a brother? How could that be? Vader had killed Bail Organa, her adopted father, but had he killed her real father as well? "Leia, we have to stop her!" Han said urgently.

Leia stirred herself from her reverie. "What?" she asked dumbly.

Han pulled her bodily up. "We have to stop your mother from attacking Luke!"

Realization set in and they both set off after Terzé, who was following Amidala as she tore through the halls.

Amidala didn't stop until she saw Luke's—her son's—weary form sitting on a chair. "HOW DARE YOU?" she shouted, ignoring all pretenses for politeness and diplomacy. Her son had saved the life of the man that had murdered his own father!

"Lady Amidala?" Luke asked in surprise, standing up. "What's wrong?"

"How dare you?" she repeated. "That _monster_"—she pointed to the room—"killed your father! How dare you soil his memory by protecting him? How dare you?"

"Lady Amidala, I don't know what you're talking about—" Luke interrupted, his eyes wide as he backed away from the livid woman.

"He killed your father, my Anakin!" Amidala cried out. "He killed my Ani!"

Luke stopped dead still.

Her _Anakin_?

He didn't even notice that she was inside the room until she had left the hall for a few moments. He stood, swaying, until he realized he should stop her, and followed her in the room, where his father had just come out of surgery. Amidala stared at him, no doubt thrown off by his appearance.

"YOU MONSTER!" she screamed.

Vader opened his eyes at once and jumped a little, wincing as he upset his injured body, now that he could feel it. He looked around for the source of the voice and locked onto her as she stalked towards him. His jaw dropped.

"Mother!" Leia cried out, panting, as she reached the doorway. Amidala whirled around to see Terzé, Han, and her daughter enter the room. "Stop it!"

"He killed Anakin!" Amidala said, pointing a shaking finger at Vader, who still lay, staring at her in disbelief. She turned. "How dare you try to take my son from me? How dare you accept his help?"

"…_Padmé_?" Vader finally found his voice, hoarse and weak though it was. He stared at her, his expression the picture of disbelief, hope, and confusion.

She froze. Her eyes widened. She backed away, clawing for some kind of support. "My lady!" Terzé called out, and took her arm before she fell.

She stared, slack-jawed at the man struggling to sit up. "No…" she whispered. "No, no, no…"

"Padmé?" he repeated incredulously. "You're dead! I killed you!"

Luke turned towards the sagging woman, held up only by her armored protector's arms. "_You _are Padmé?" he whispered. "But you told me…"

It all fell into place—her staring at him when she didn't realize he was watching; her interest in his affairs; the time she had briefly mentioned that she used to 'know' his father, Anakin Skywalker.

Luke swayed. His _mother_!

"Ani?" Amidala—Padmé—gasped. "Ani, is that you?"

"He told me I killed you! He said I killed you!" Anakin rasped, panicked. He clenched the blankets in his hands, the respirator picking up to his body's anxiety. "No… No…"

"Father," Luke said, moving over to him, forgetting about this latest revelation in his concern. "Father, calm down."

Anakin stared wildly at him. "Luke, Luke…" he whispered. "She's alive!" His gaze hardened and they all felt the room suddenly grow cold. "He told me I killed her," he repeated.

The various medical instruments on the trays began to shake. "Father?" Luke asked, furrowing his brow.

With an immense show of strength, Anakin lifted his arms and grabbed his scalp, squeezing his eyes tight as the room began to quiver. He bit his lip.

"Father, let go of your anger," said Luke firmly, taking his father's mechanical arm from his head and letting it fall limp onto the bed. "Release it into the Force. Breathe." Anakin latched onto his son's hand and did as he was told, and gradually the shaking stopped, leaving him breathing raggedly despite the respirator.

"Ani," Padmé whispered, getting to her feet shakily, tears shining in her eyes.

He jerked his head over to her and winced at the pain in his neck. He stared at her unblinkingly, his mouth slightly open as he just watched her. "You're alive," he rasped in complete wonderment. "You're alive, you're alive."

She stumbled over to him and pressed her face to his chest and her hands on his face. He flinched at the contact. "Ani, what is it? What's wrong?"

He just looked at her as though he'd lost all measure of space and time. "Padmé, Padmé…" he whispered.

"Ani, my love," she said, drawing back.

Gritting his teeth with the effort, he reached out for her hand with his mechanical one—damaged as it was—and suddenly she stiffened. "_You_!"

"Padmé," he rasped, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he tried in vain to draw breath into his lungs.

"You're Darth Vader," she whispered, stepping back. "Darth Vader. You're him. You—you're Vader. You're him. You're Vader," she mumbled over and over in disbelief.

"Padmé, please," he gasped, trying to project his voice as he calmed his lungs down, still struggling to breathe.

She raised her eyes to him, cold and hard. "Anakin, how _could_ you? How could you do those things? Leia!" her hands went to her mouth and she whirled to see her daughter, standing pale-faced at the door. Han had long since left the room. "You _tortured _her! Your _daughter_! You—you killed those people, you helped _him _destroy Naboo! Alderaan! You almost turned Luke to the Dark Side! You killed _Bail_! You killed Owen and Beru, all the Jedi!" She glared at him, her eyes blazing with anger.

"Lady Ami"—Luke paused. "Mother, stop it, please."

Padmé ignored him, just whirled back at her husband. "Anakin, I don't understand," she said as he wheezed and gasped for breath on the bed. "How could you? How could you have done those things?"

"Mother!" Luke said sharply.

Padmé stared at Anakin, who had sunk back into the pillows, biting his lips. She glanced to Luke and instantly her gaze softened. "Luke, my dear boy, my beautiful son," she whimpered, losing her strength. Terzé caught her elbow and she froze once more and turned to him. "Terzé Ba'kuun," she said suddenly. "You _knew_?"

"What?" Luke asked, confused.

"My lady…" Terzé mumbled. "I did."

She gasped. "And you didn't tell me? Why didn't you? How could you not?"

"What are you talking about?" Luke asked, confused.

Terzé turned to Luke slowly. "I was a spy," he said quietly. "On the _Executor_."

"A spy?" Luke asked blankly.

"Three years ago," he continued, and pulled off his helmet.

"_Lang_?" Luke gasped.

The same cropped brown hair, dark eyes—the face was the same, albeit older. "Hannon Lang?"

He nodded wordlessly and this time it was Luke who stumbled back, needed to sit down. "I don't understand," he whispered.

"Terzé, how could you keep it from me? You knew the whole story!" Padmé whispered. Terzé—or Lang—turned back to her.

"That's why I couldn't tell you," he said quietly. "I thought that if you found out that your husband… that Anakin was Darth Vader, it would destroy you." Behind him, Anakin winced as though slapped.

"You…" Leia had moved forward to the foot of Anakin's bed. She stared at him and he met her gaze, cringing. "You…" she repeated, and then her eyes widened. "You killed my father," she whispered. "Bail Organa."

"I…" Anakin opened his mouth to try and say something, but the words wouldn't come.

"But… I don't understand," Leia continued, turning to face her mother. "Why didn't you tell us?"

Padmé got to her feet. "Leia…" she began. "I couldn't."

"Why?" Luke asked, moving to stand at his father's shoulder.

"Because… Because I am a target," she said finally. "I thought that if you knew, Luke, who I am—who Leia is—then it could endanger you. That if you cared for us, that you would risk yourself needlessly. Or, we might be used against you. And you're the last of the Jedi."

"I'm not the last of the Jedi," Luke said quietly. "I'm not even a Jedi yet. And I would have gone to yours or Leia's aid any day, regardless."

Padmé smiled a watery smile at him. "You're just like your—" she stopped herself and turned her gaze back to Anakin, who lay on the bed, eyes closed tightly. Her anger melted. "Ani, what _happened_ to you?"

He tensed and opened his eyes. "Padmé… I…"

Her anger forgotten, Padmé went back to his side and pulled up a chair to sit by him. Her fingers traced the old, twisted scars that were the remnants of his injuries, and bypassed the bandages that covered his other injuries. He flinched at her touch.

"Why do you shrink away, Ani?" she asked him gently, her face saddened by what she saw.

"Padmé," he rasped, and she thought she heard a little of his voice. "I have not been touched," he rasped, "in almost eighteen years," he whispered to her. "Not by anything except a droid."

She froze and then buried her face in the flesh-and-blood of his shoulder. "My beautiful Anakin, my love, my heart," she said softly into his skin, swallowing to keep back her tears. "I've missed you so much, Ani. I've longed for you every day."

He said nothing, just concentrated on breathing and enjoying the feel of her cheek against his shoulder. "Padmé…" he whispered after a moment. "I am not… who you remember," he told her haltingly. "Look at my face."

She lifted her head from his shoulder and reached a trembling finger out to trace the scars that disfigured his face. He shrank away from her touch. "Your face means nothing to me, love," she told him gently. She hung her head. "Ani, how could you do those things? The younglings, at the Temple, it was you, wasn't it?"

"Yes," he whispered, and Luke felt the wave of shame and regret roll off of him like the anger had minutes earlier.

"But why?" she asked him distraughtly, trying desperately to understand. "What could make you do those things? How could you have become such—"

"A monster?" he finished her hollowly. "I…was corrupted," he said quietly. "I'm sorry. That's all I can say, Padmé. I'm so sorry."

"You're not a monster," she said dully, though she didn't sound convinced. "And Alderaan?"

"I didn't give that order," he said quietly. "I despised it."

She sagged in relief. "Good." She peered more closely at his mutilated body and frowned. "Ani…tell me what happened."

"Padmé…" he began hoarsely. "Please, I…"

"I must know, Anakin," she said firmly. "Please."

"Please… don't… Padmé…" Anakin begged her. "I can't… I… please…"

"Lady Amidala, don't," said Luke firmly, his own eyes hard. "Don't ask."

"Luke," she said, standing up to face her son. "He is my husband. Whoever did this to him—whoever hurt him so must receive justice."

"You don't want to know," said Luke heavily. "Believe me."

"Mother, perhaps he's right," Leia ventured. She kept her eyes off of Vader. "I read warnings about this place. If you breathe the fumes, then your lungs basically burn from the inside. If that's what happened to him—"

"What do you mean, 'this place?'" Anakin interjected sharply.

"Father," Luke said uncomfortably. "The Rebel base… We're on Mustafar."

Anakin froze and shut his eyes tightly. Just the mention of the place—he could feel his lungs burning again, he could feel the flames crawling up his skin, he could see the hazy shadow of Obi-Wan above him… He couldn't breathe—he was suffocating, gasping for air, but his lungs—they were burning, burning and he couldn't do it—

"Ani! Ani, what's wrong?"

He was jerked back to the present to see that an oxygen mask had been placed over his mouth in addition to the machine that was already oxygenating his blood. He coughed. He had been choking—suffocating like he had the day eighteen years earlier. "I'm sorry," he said hoarsely.

"You mean—here?" Padmé gasped. "This is where you were hurt?"

"Let's stop talking about this," Luke said tightly. "I don't want to remember it any more than he does."

"She…" Anakin began. "She should know if she wants to," he said haltingly. "It explains… some of my actions, if it isn't justification."

"Father…" Luke began doubtfully. "I don't want to show her my dream—"

"NO!" Padmé suddenly screamed, launching herself back from her husband.

"Mother, what is it?" Leia asked worriedly.

Padmé stared at Anakin, horrified. Her dream, her dream—she had thought that it was her who was burning, that it was her whose lungs had inhaled the smoke and fumes—but it wasn't.

It had been Anakin.

Anakin.

He had lived it.

It had been real.

It was he whom the flames had destroyed, he who had slid towards the lava, trying desperately to claw his way back up, but no one had helped him. No one had stopped the flames from consuming him. He had lived it. He had burned.

"No," she gasped. "Please! It didn't happen! _Please_! Not fire, not fire, Anakin! Not you!"

"How…?" Luke asked, bewildered.

"I dreamt it," Padmé said quickly, her eyes filling with tears of horrible realization. "I dreamt it. I thought I was burning, I thought it was me… Ani, how did it happen? How did you live through it? My love, my dearest love!"

He said nothing, just let her return to him and stroke his chest, her fingers touching the bumps and ridges of the scar tissue that was the only parts of his skin that they had been able to salvage. For the rest they had had to culture skin, and graft it on. He felt wetness on his shoulder and saw that she was crying, and it pulled him back to the night on Mustafar so long before. "My love, what happened that night… A duel…"

"You mean…?" she said, looking up at him. "Obi-Wan…?"

He nodded, barely moving his head. "No…" Padmé whispered. "He couldn't have! He left you to _burn_? He left you there, to burn alive? _Obi-Wan_ is responsible for this?" The anger grew in his eyes and she stood. "I will kill him," she said tightly.

"He is one with the Force, now," said Anakin quietly. "I already killed him. When Luke was fourteen and ran away to Tatooine."

"They didn't think you could come back," said Luke suddenly. "They thought you were lost forever."

"What do you mean, 'they?'" Anakin asked, confused. "Come back from the Dark Side?"

"Yoda and Obi-Wan," said Luke sheepishly. "Obi-Wan is a ghost."

"Yoda? Yoda is still alive?" Anakin questioned in disbelief.

"Don't get any ideas," said Leia darkly, and clapped a hand over her mouth. Anakin winced.

"Stop it, Leia," said Padmé sternly.

"She has every right," said Anakin wearily. "Help me sit up, please," he told Padmé, who immediately obliged him. He turned to Leia. "I am so sorry," he said quietly. "What happened on the Death Star… Leia, I had no idea. That doesn't excuse my actions, but…"

She nodded tightly and said nothing. He faltered. "I need to… What am I going to do?" he asked suddenly.

"What do you mean, my love?" Padmé asked concernedly.

"I need to get to Bain," said Anakin heavily. "Luke, once I am recovered from this operation, will you take me there?"

"Why? What's Bain?" Padmé asked nervously.

"My world," said Anakin quietly, as though ashamed of himself.

"And what is there?"

"A suit," said Anakin truthfully.

Padmé stood sharply. "No. Never put one of those blasted things on ever again. Anakin, I won't have it. I'll die before I see you in it."

"Mother," Leia said uncomfortably.

"What?"

"It's a life-support suit," said Leia, trailing off.

"I can't live without it, Padmé," Anakin replied hoarsely. Her lower lip trembled. "Don't cry for me, my love," he said tenderly. He strained and lifted his arm—his right arm—to touch a metallic finger to her cheek.

"We need to go to Bain for another reason," said Luke off-handedly.

"Why?"

"I… sort of pledged your fleet and your Imperial knowledge to the Rebellion to get medical help for you," said Luke quietly.

Anakin let out a hoarse laugh. "You did?"

"Are you angry?"

"No," said Anakin, his features twisted into a smile. "I was going to anyway. My destroyers are fully manned, you know."

"They're what?"

"And loyal to me," Anakin added. "Should be nice additions to the Rebel fleet."

Suddenly the door to the room opened and Mon Mothma stepped inside. "Your 2-1B surgeon said you were ready for visitors," she said stiffly, not making eye contact with Vader.

"Lady Mothma," said Anakin, and he straightened and his voice grew slightly deeper, and less hoarse.

She gave a little bow. "Lord Vader." If she noticed his subtle flinch or that Padmé turned away at the mention of the name, she said nothing. "Am I correct in assuming that you were formerly known as Anakin Skywalker, Jedi Knight?"

"Yes," said Vader firmly.

"He still is," said Padmé, interrupting. "And he wishes to be known once more by that name. His true name."

"Lady Amidala"—Mothma began uncomfortably. "I'm afraid that you have not yet been approved as a member of the High Command. You have no authority here, I'm afraid."

"I speak as Padmé Naberrie," Padmé continued boldly. "As Anakin Skywalker's wife."

For a second, Mothma lost control of her blank political mask. "He's your husband?" she said, shocked.

Padmé inclined her head once while Anakin said nothing. "We believed each other dead," said Anakin swiftly. "She is loyal to the Rebellion."

"That's… That's not what I was wondering," said Mothma weakly. "If you're married, then Princess Leia…"

"Luke and Leia are twins," said Padmé with a small smile. "I kept the knowledge secret for personal reasons."

"I see," said Mothma, clearing her expression. "Very well. Luke informed me that you had pledged certain services to the Rebel cause, Lord Vader," she said. "I wish to know if that is accurate."

"It is," Anakin replied with a nod of his head. "I have been somewhat…misguided in my political allegiances. And personal ones," he added. "No longer am I the apprentice to Emperor Palpatine, nor the commander of the Imperial Military."

"Do you request membership to the Alliance?" Mothma asked in surprise.

"I…" Anakin faltered. "I don't think that I would be welcome," he said at last.

"But you're willing?" Mothma asked, astonished.

"If the goal of the Alliance is to destroy Palpatine, then yes," he said firmly. "It must be done."

"I will bring this up to the High Command," Mothma said finally. "Recover well, Lord V"—she paused. "Master Jedi."

Once she left, Anakin slumped back into the pillows as though the effort of speaking to her had been too much. "Are you all right?" Padmé asked worriedly.

He nodded, ignoring the pain in his neck from the operation. "Padmé… The destruction of Palpatine is not as easy as it sounds."

"But you're the Chosen One," said Padmé, furrowing her brow. "You can do it."

He shook his head slowly. "I can't."

"Why not? You've come back from the Dark Side!" Padmé said desperately. "You have!"

"I have, my love," Anakin reassured her. "But I am no longer capable of doing so."

"I don't understand," said his wife, resting a hand on his shoulder.

"I can explain."

They all turned to see the bluish, glowing form of a man they all knew.

"Obi-Wan!" Padmé said in surprise. She stood. "You have a lot of explaining to do," she said tightly. "How dare you? How dare you do that to him?"

"Obi-Wan!" Anakin said in surprise. Intense pain and remorse swept across his face. "Master… For everything I've done…I'm sorry…"

The glowing form of his former master drifted over to Anakin's bedside and 'sat' in a chair. "Anakin," he said gently. "How proud I am of you."

Anakin choked back tears. "Master… I failed you. I failed the Jedi."

"Disappointed, perhaps," said Obi-Wan quietly, though his face showed his heavy-heartedness. "But you haven't failed, my dear padawan. Not yet."

"How can you say that?" Anakin asked uncomprehendingly. "Master, I killed them all! I murdered them!" Beside him, Padmé stifled a sob.

"But you haven't failed," said Obi-Wan. "You still live. As does Darth Sidious. You will fulfill your destiny, Anakin. You are the Chosen One. You have proven yourself to be when you renounced the Dark Side."

Anakin shut his eyes. "But I can't, Obi-Wan. You know I can't."

"Not in your present condition," Obi-Wan agreed, wincing.

"What are you talking about?" Padmé questioned. "Why can't he?"

Obi-Wan let out a sigh. "Let me explain," he said heavily.


	20. Friction

Another Route

Pt 20

Author's Note: Sorry for the wait. Having trouble with 23. Please enjoy and let me know what you think!

Disclaimer: I haven't put one of these in a while, but let's just suffice it to say that I don't own Star Wars now, and I won't own it in any of the other chapters to come either. : )

"Yes. Do," said Padmé coldly. She pulled up a chair and sat next to Anakin, who turned away from her gaze, ashamed.

"When we fought," Obi-Wan began slowly. "And he was injured, his midi-chlorians were depleted."

"How is that possible?" asked Padmé, confused.

"Midi-chlorians reside in living cells," Anakin told her quietly. "I lost half my body. Half my midi-chlorians."

Understanding dawned on her. "So… the Emperor is more powerful?" she asked hesitantly.

"Yes," said Anakin bitterly.

"Anakin," said Obi-Wan gently. "Please forgive me. What happened to you… I never intended that."

"You left me there," Anakin said coldly. "You left me."

Obi-Wan hung his head. "I thought you were going to die," he said quietly.

"So, naturally, you thought burning was the way to go," said Anakin. He closed his eyes briefly, trying to ward off the memories, and shuddered. Padmé reached forward and touched his shoulder gently.

"I am sorry. You were a brother to me, Anakin—I loved you like my family. What you did… To the Jedi, to Padmé…"

Anakin released a heavy breath. "You're right. I shouldn't be mad at you. I deserved it."

"No!" Padmé cried. "You didn't then, and you don't now!"

He looked to her. "Padmé…"

"She's right, Anakin," said Obi-Wan. "You didn't deserve it. It was appalling."

"What came after was worse," he mumbled to himself, and beside him, Luke flinched.

"What do you mean, my love?" asked Padmé, lifting his chin to make him look at her."

"Palpatine," said Luke, gritting his teeth. "Thought sedatives were a sign of weakness." He waved a hand towards his father's chest and his arms.

"No…" Padmé whispered. "No… Ani… please tell me he didn't…"

He refused to look at her. "The point is," he said after a moment. "I am not able to defeat him. I _have _failed, Master."

"So stubborn," said Obi-Wan, shaking his head. "All things are possible through the Force, my dear padawan."

"No. He shall not receive healing."

They all looked up to see another shining figure beside Obi-Wan. "Master Windu!" Padmé cried in surprise.

Anakin drew back. "Master Windu, I—"

"You will stand trial before the Jedi Council," said Mace Windu, crossing his arms. "You may not have failed in Obi-Wan's point of view, but that is a fact to be decided by your peers."

"I don't have a good history with the Jedi Council," Anakin muttered to himself.

"You were once a member of it," said Windu coolly.

Luke started. "Really? You were, Father?"

Anakin nodded silently.

"He hasn't recovered yet," said Padmé coldly, standing. "I won't allow it."

Windu bowed to her slightly. "With all due respect, Madam Skywalker, your husband is a Jedi and you are not. Our authority is the highest power here."

"He's right," Anakin rasped, and then submerged into a fit of coughing.

"Ani! Are you all right?" Padmé asked worriedly. She touched her hand to his face, and he drew back sharply as her fingers grazed his scars.

"Please—don't—"he whispered in a pained voice.

"Ani, I don't care about them," said Padmé gently. "I love you."

"How?" he asked her, his breath coming in short gasps. "I'm a monster, Padmé. A murderer."

"Darth Vader, yes," she said, a hard tone to her voice. "But not Anakin Skywalker."

"You don't understand, Padmé," he said hoarsely. "I _am _Darth Vader. What I did… it was all me."

"No, it wasn't," Padmé persisted.

"It will be decided," said Windu, interrupting the exchange. He floated back and waved a hand, and instantly the glowing visages of the Council members were visible in the room.

"Anakin Skywalker," Ki-Adi-Mundi said coolly. "Your victims." He gestured behind him, and the faces of hundreds of people appeared. Anakin let out a choked cry and shut his eyes tightly before coughing again.

"Stop it!" Padmé cried. "Can't you see he's not healthy?"

None of the Jedi responded. Luke moved to stand by his mother. "I don't approve of this," he said coldly. "My father isn't well. He needs rest."

Mace Windu turned to him. "You shall receive your own trial, in time, Padawan-learner Luke Skywalker. The Council has not forgotten the murder of Bracin Dase."

Luke flinched and fell silent. On the bed, Anakin struggled to sit up. "Ani…" Padmé began concernedly. "You're not strong enough—"

He ignored her and painstakingly lifted himself, inch by inch, off of the bed, his flesh-and blood body trembling with exertion. He turned to the side and pushed himself off, landing on his knees on the floor with a metallic thud. "Father…" Luke began as he knelt in front of the Jedi Masters.

Anakin ripped the breathing mask off of his face and, panting for air, bowed his head in front of Mace Windu. "Judge me as you will," he gasped, his voice weak and no more than a whisper.

"Very well," said Windu coldly. "Anakin Skywalker, commonly known as Darth Vader. What is your plea to the charges of murder for the victims you see before you?"

"Guilty," he whispered.

"And of the betrayal of the Republic?"

"Guilty," he repeated dumbly.

"Then we shall judge you as such," said Windu. "Anakin Skywalker, commonly known as Darth Vader—"

"Let me interrupt," said a light tenor. The ghostly Jedi looked up to see Qui-Gon Jinn 'leaning' against the doorjamb, smiling benignly.

Anakin turned with some difficult and his jaw dropped open. "Master Qui-Gon?" he whispered incredulously.

"Hello, Anakin," said Qui-Gon, moving forward. "I have come to speak in your defense."

"My defense? Master, I'm guilty," Anakin said, confused. "Whatever they decide, I deserve it."

"But you still have a job to do, Anakin," said Qui-Gon gently. "You are the Chosen One, no matter if you want to be or not."

Anakin said nothing.

"Master Skywalker?" the voice of a child suddenly asked in the silence. Anakin looked up and froze.

_"Master Skywalker! There are too many of them. What are we going to do?"_

The visage of the boy looked at him, standing at about his height on his knees. "Zett?" Anakin whispered hoarsely.

Zett nodded and smiled. "It's okay, Master Ani," he said easily. "I forgive you."

"But… how?" Anakin asked, choking. "I… I murdered you. I led the troops in the Purge."

"I know," said the child. "But I forgive you. You have suffered a lot, Master Ani. I know you're sorry for what you did." The child reached up his hand and touched Anakin's face, and miraculously, it felt solid. He traced the scars on his face. "All of us forgive you. All of the younglings."

"Perhaps we should take the younglings' example," said Qui-Gon to the members of the council. "Anakin still has his destiny to fulfill."

"He turned his back on the Jedi, Qui-Gon," said Windu coldly. "He single-handedly tore apart the Republic and set up this monstrosity of the Empire."

"Anakin had nothing to do with politics," said Padmé instantly. "It was Palpatine to whom that charge belongs."

"Madam Skywalker is right," said another Jedi. "The Senate elected Palpatine."

"Anakin cannot defeat Palpatine unless he is healed," said Obi-Wan finally.

"He will heal when the Darkness is gone," said Windu firmly. "He will be healed when he has proven that no vestige of Darth Vader lingers in him—when there is no anger, no hate."

"You're asking him to not feel anything," Padmé said stiffly. "That cannot be done."

"There is no emotion, only peace," said Ki-Adi-Mundi. "That is the way it must be."

"I disagree," said Qui-Gon, stepping forward. "It is love that saved Anakin. Love that made him hide his son."

"And love that pushed him to the Dark Side," Windu retorted.

"Fear of loss," Qui-Gon corrected. "And you cannot make a decision on his judgement yet, Master Windu."

"Oh?"

"Master Yoda is not present," Qui-Gon said coolly. "The entire Jedi Council must make the decision when judging a council member. Anakin is still a council member."

"Technicality," Windu muttered to himself. "Very well. We shall postpone the judgement until Master Yoda is present." With that, he and all of the others faded away, leaving only Obi-Wan, Qui-Gon, and Zett.

"Bye, Master Ani. Next time, will you tell us about the time you won the podrace?" Zett asked eagerly. Anakin nodded dumbly. Zett beamed. "Good. The rest of us can't wait." Then, like the rest, he disappeared.

"It is time for us to go, as well," said Qui-Gon, looking at Anakin as he still knelt on the floor. He looked up.

"I'm sorry for everything, Master," he said quietly.

"Nonsense. You have made me very proud, Anakin. You have renounced the Dark Side. Never has anyone done that." Anakin remained silent.

"I am proud as well, Anakin," said Obi-Wan quietly.

He began to fade, but Anakin called out, "Master?"

"Yes?"

"I'm sorry," he said quickly, ashamed. "For killing you."

"I always did say that you'd be the death of me, dear padawan," said Obi-Wan, a sad smile spreading across his face. His brow furrowed. "Forgive yourself."

And then they were alone again. Anakin lifted one of his arms with difficulty and set it on the bed, intending to climb up, but Luke immediately was at his side. "Let me do it, Father," he said gently, using the Force to help Anakin back onto the bed.

"How did you learn to do that?" Anakin teased hoarsely.

"I had a good teacher," Luke replied lightly. "Do you need the breath mask?"

"No…" Anakin said wearily. "I'm fine for now. Luke," he said seriously. "I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"Making you my apprentice. An apprentice to the Dark Side, I mean," he said. "My actions could have cost you your soul, if you weren't so stubbornly good-hearted."

Luke touched his father's shoulder. "It's all right," he said finally. "I think it's better that I have some experience. Now I know what to stay away from."

"You should get some rest, Ani," said Padmé softly. "You need to recover."

"Stay with me?" he asked her quietly.

"Of course, my love," she replied, smiling slightly at him. "Always."

Luke and Leia exchanged awkward glances. "Brother," Leia said finally, smiling a little. She was still pale, still shocked.

"Sister," Luke replied. "I need some food. Walk with me to the mess hall?"

Leia nodded. "I could use another cup of stimcaf right now."

Terzé stood—they had all forgotten he was in the room. "Lady Amidala," he began.

Padmé turned. "What do you need, Terzé?" she asked.

"I wish to extend my apologies," Terzé/Lang said uncomfortably. "If not for me, this mess wouldn't have happened."

"It was not your responsibility, Terzé," said Padmé gently. "Don't worry."

"I wondered why you had deserted," Anakin remarked. "I was impressed. You were a good captain and good pilot."

"Thank you, my lord," said Terzé, inclining his head.

"But I do wonder," Anakin continued. "If you spied on me, how did you hide yourself?"

"I am a Force-blind," said Terzé, smiling slightly. "Lady Amidala taught me all she knew about it, so I knew what to look for."

"I see," said Anakin. "You're her protector?"

Terzé nodded. "I am the son of the handmaiden who was her decoy for her funeral," he explained. "She was shot by a stormtrooper."

Anakin winced. "I apologize," he whispered.

"You had not yet emerged, my lord," Terzé replied swiftly. "It was not your fault."

"Thank you for protecting her," said Anakin. "I owe you a great deal."

"It was my honor, my lord."

"I am not a 'lord' of anything," Anakin said dryly.

"Old habits die hard, my lord."

Anakin stilled. "Hopefully not too hard," he said, more to himself than to Padmé or her protector.

"Would you find some clothes for him, Terzé?" Padmé asked. "He cannot continue to wear this bodysuit thing."

"I wore it underneath the suit," Anakin explained wearily.

"I will, of course, my lady," said Terzé at once, and disappeared, leaving Padmé and Anakin alone.

"I can't believe… you… Leia…" Anakin said finally.

"I know," said Padmé, smiling.

"I wondered how she had come from Bail Organa," Anakin said, leaning back into the pillows. "He was so mild-mannered. She was… opinionated and strong-willed. She always reminded me of you."

"How could you kill him, Ani?" Padmé asked, troubled. "He was your friend."

Anakin lay silent. "I don't have any justification, Padmé," he told her sorrowfully after a moment. "I'm sorry. I don't."

She sighed. "Get some rest, my love." She pressed a hand to his cheek and he smiled slightly and closed his eyes.

Anakin opened his eyes, feeling strangely rested. He hadn't slept—truly slept—in seventeen years, when he hadn't been able to handle the nightmares anymore. "How are you feeling?" a soft voice—a voice he had longed to hear—questioned.

"Better," he responded truthfully. He turned his head, pleased to see that the pain from the operation had subsided. Padmé still sat at his side, and she looked as though she'd slept as well. "How long have I…?"

"Been out?" she finished. "About two days."

"What?"

"Your prosthetics were repaired," she explained. "The only damage was to the connections between your flesh and the mechanics. There were guards for the rest of the limbs."

"I installed them," he admitted. "Once I'd recovered, I was worried that if Palpatine got angry at me, he would electrocute me and I'd be helpless to defend myself."

She frowned. "Oh, Ani…"

"Don't think about it, Padmé," he advised her wearily.

"Do you want to get up?" she offered suddenly. "Stretch your legs?"

"Stretch my legs?" Anakin responded, raising his eyebrows.

"You know what I mean, Ani," she chided, though her expression had faltered. "Terzé found some clothes for you. We could get something to eat in the mess hall."

"I'm sure they'd be happy to have lunch with Darth Vader," he snorted. "Most of them think I plug myself to a powercell, anyway."

"Ani…"

"It's the truth, my love," he said quietly. He looked at her for a moment and grinned.

"What?"

"You… you're so beautiful," he said with a smile. "Just like I remember."

She rolled her eyes. "I'm in my forties, Anakin Skywalker," she said. "Don't be a flatterer."

"A flatterer?" he sounded genuinely confused. "Padmé, you're the most beautiful woman in the Galaxy."

She ignored his compliment. "If you're going to join the Rebels, showing up without the suit will help," she reminded him. He sighed and lifted his arms, pleased that his strength had returned. He examined the repairs.

"I'll go, if you wish it," he told her. "But I'll need…"

"Already done," she said, pointing to the respirator to which he was attached. "Pure oxygen."

"Thank you," he mumbled, humiliated by his dependency on it.

"Ani, what happened is nothing to be ashamed of," she told him, leaning forward and touching his face. "You were horribly injured. No one will think less of you for it."

"Padmé, they can't think any _less _of me as it is," he told her. "I'm Darth Vader. My medical condition is the least of their concerns."

"You just made a donation of several hundred million credits, a private fleet, and tactical knowledge of the Empire's inner workings," she said with a small smile. "They're feeling as amicable as they ever will."

He smiled again and she saw a shadow of the man she had loved twenty years earlier pass over him. "Perhaps you're right."

"Where did you get all of that money, anyway?" she asked him as he sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed. He winced as he upset some of the electrical burns that hadn't healed completely.

"I don't know," he answered truthfully. "Gifts, I suppose. Royal families tended to appreciate my stabilizing their dynasties on order of the Emperor."

She shook her head in wonderment. "And Luke told me you own several star systems?"

He nodded. "Only one—the Bain system—has a hospitable world. The rest I use for mining, I think."

"There's a 'fresher over there," she said, pointing to the door on the opposite wall.

"I can't take a shower with these on," he said, motioning to the Bacta-soaked bandages. "I'll just wash off."

"Let me help you," she said instantly.

He stiffened. "Padmé…"

"Don't argue," she told him firmly. "Do you need help standing?"

"I can manage," he said, gripping the side of the bed and standing uneasily.

"Let me help you," she told him, picking up the portable oxygen container and taking his left arm and putting it over his shoulder. "You've not recovered your full strength yet."

They made it to the fresher and, grimacing, he removed the shirt. Padmé let out a soft hiss as she saw his back. "Oh, Ani…" she moaned in anguish, wrapping her arms around his torso and resting her cheek on the twisted skin that was his back.

"Shh," he told her gently.

She removed herself and reached around, wiping a wet cloth over his back. "I'm sorry," she told him softly. "It's not you who should be comforting me."

"Padmé," he told her suddenly, and turned to face her. "I'm sorry that I didn't listen to you. That I…" he swallowed and touched her throat with his hand. "I don't know what came over me, it's just… I thought that Obi-Wan had betrayed me, and when he showed up…"

"It's in the past," she told him seriously. "And I forgave you for it a long time ago."

He closed his eyes briefly. "I swear that I will never hurt you ever again," he said fiercely. "As long as I live, and beyond."

She smiled sadly and finished running the cloth over his skin. "Luke had some clothes made for you," she told him. "He asked for my help."

"On?"

"What you used to wear," she said with a smile. "I think you'll like them. And I got some gloves for you."

"Thank you," he said sincerely.

"I'll get them," she said, and left the 'fresher to return with an armful of cloth. "Luke didn't know the amount layers for the regalia of a Jedi Knight," she said wryly. "I think he went and changed his wardrobe because of it."

"He would," Anakin said cryptically. "He always wanted things to be exact."

"What was it like?" Padmé asked him eagerly. "Being with him?"

He frowned. "He asked questions constantly. I didn't give him enough answers," he said. "I was too rough with him. He went and got himself into a battle once," he remembered with a small laugh. "He shot down a Berk fighter and helped with two others."

"Terzé told me that," Padmé acknowledged. "But Ani, I don't want a critique of your parenting skills."

He raised an eyebrow. "Parenting skills? Padmé, I cut off my own child's hand. Granted, I didn't know he was mine, but…"

She sighed. "If you won't stop this guilt trip then I don't want to talk about it," she said firmly. "Let me help you get dressed."

Ten minutes later, he stepped out of the 'fresher, clad in the darker clothes that he had preferred almost two-decades ago. "You look just like I remember," Padmé said happily.

"Really?" he said dubiously and with a touch of sarcasm.

"Yes," she said firmly. "If the scars bother you so much, you should get them removed."

"I never had cause to," he told her. "And as soon as I get my suit back, I won't then, either."

Her gaze darkened. "I don't want you to wear it. I don't care that it lets you go without oxygen," she said, nodding to the breather he carried next to him. "I hate it. I hate everything about it."

"Padmé…"

"It's not fair," she continued stubbornly. "It's not."

"I know. But it's necessary," he told her quietly. "Let's go, okay?"

She nodded and slipped an arm around his waist, taking care to avoid the injuries she knew were there. "Luke should be there," she told him.

"I should thank him," Anakin mused. "He did save my life. And then I'm going to hurt him."

"Oh?"

"He could have gotten killed," Anakin said shortly. "Or been forced to become Palpatine's apprentice. If that had happened…"

"It didn't," Padmé reminded him. "So don't think about it. Besides, it was exactly the same kind of rescue mission you used to do with Obi-Wan, remember?"

"So?" he grumbled. "Luke isn't fully trained. He could have been—"

"Anakin," Padmé said with a little laugh, "You worry far too much. Luke wouldn't let a little thing like not being completely trained stand in his way. He has too much Skywalker in his blood."

"Lady Amidala! And… Master Jedi Skywalker," said Mon Mothma uncomfortably as she approached them. "I'm glad to see you're recovered, Master Jedi," she said.

"Jedi Knight," he corrected her, equally uncomfortable. "I was never given the rank of Master."

"Well, you're all we've got," said Mothma wanly. "I would like to know when a hearing before the High Command would be appropriate."

"Any time you would like," said Anakin courteously. "I am grateful for the opportunity."

"Of course," said Mothma. "Your son said…" she swallowed nervously. "It seems that you will be returning shortly to your private residence?"

"Unfortunately, yes," said Anakin. "I must acquire another life-support suit, as this," he said, holding up the case, "is impractical."

"I see," said Mothma. "Very well. Good day, Lady Amidala, Lord Vad—"she stopped herself. "Master Skywalker."

"Thank you, Lady Mothma," said Padmé, linking her arm with Anakin's. They walked to the mess hall—Anakin drawing various stares from the passersby—until finally, Padmé saw that he was a bit short of breath. "What is it, my love?" she asked worriedly.

He sat down. "I don't have any energy, and my heart…" he began. "It's regulated by the same machine as my breathing," he explained. "When I exercise, it increases my heart rate and respiration for me. My body isn't used to doing it on its own."

Padmé frowned. "Will you be all right?"

He nodded. "I'm fine."

"I'll go and get us something to eat," said Padmé. "Stay here."

He nodded and leaned back into the chair, ignoring the blatant stares from around him due to the breather and his disfigurements.

"You." He looked up to see a pale, brown-haired man whose eyes were blazing. "You're Darth Vader, aren't you?"

Anakin had no desire to lie, and as the truth would come out sooner or later, he responded, "I was."

The man let out a feral cry. "How dare you come here, you bastard?" he shouted. Before Anakin even realized what he was doing, the man launched himself at him and pushed him from the chair. He landed on his back painfully and the man was pummeling him. "YOU KILLED MY BROTHER!" he screamed. With a savage cry, he ripped the respirator tubes from Anakin's nose and threw the contraption across the room.

Instantly he was suffocating. Anakin gasped and tried desperately to breathe, but his damaged lungs couldn't keep up without the high oxygen content. He rolled to his side, the man having stood up, and gasped for air.

"Can't take your own medicine, can you, you bastard?" the man spat. "That's how my brother felt when he died, monster." He kicked Anakin once in the chest, right over his burns, and he cried out, but the sound died at his lips. He lifted his leg to do so again, but Anakin raised a trembling hand and called on the Force to push the man away from him.

"ANI!" A panicked scream echoed throughout the chamber. Anakin tried to move towards the sound, but he didn't have the strength to move his limbs. Slowly, he felt dark crawl in from the corners of his eyes, and he observed his attacker closing in for another kick and tried, faintly, to push him away, but couldn't focus.

"FATHER!"

_Luke… _he gasped mentally.

And suddenly an oxygen mask was pressed over his face and he saw his son's face swimming above him. Clarity returned to his senses and he gradually returned to himself. The pain from his chest assaulted him and he let out a moan.

"Ani! Ani, are you all right?" Padmé's worried face appeared over his own as Luke moved to help him back into the chair, grunting with the effort.

"I'm fine," he rasped.

Padmé's gaze hardened and she whipped around to where Luke had fastened the man to a chair with the Force. "Do not ever touch him again, or I swear that I'll—"

"Padmé, leave him be," Anakin said hoarsely. "I deserved it. Bring him here."

Tightlipped, Luke waved his hand and the man—clearly disturbed—walked slowly over to Anakin. "You're lucky your _son _was here, bastard," the man snarled, shooting a nasty glare at him.

"What is your name?" Anakin asked gently.

The man stared at him for a moment. "Hrask Verdis," he said finally.

Brother to Sergeant Bex Verdis, one of the victims of his rampage the day Luke had disappeared to Tatooine. Anakin closed his eyes briefly, remorse shooting through him. "Sergeant Bex Verdis was a good officer," he said slowly. "I'm sorry for his death. He died honorably."

"Don't you dare speak his name," Hrask said tightly. "I don't know what you're doing here, but I swear that I'll get my revenge."

"Revenge doesn't bring him back," said Anakin quietly.

"He was _loyal _to you!" Hrask shouted. "He used to tell me how brilliant you were—how fair, how honorable. How you got things done, how you'd never lost a battle in your life. How could you kill him? Why?"

Anakin bowed his head. "I have no excuse for my actions. All I can do is offer my sincere apology."

Hrask stared at him for a moment before finally standing up. "Apologies don't bring my brother back either," he spat, turning and stalking out of the mess hall.

Anakin slumped in his chair, and Luke felt the overwhelming sense of guilt and self-loathing emanate from his father before he carefully placed shields around his mind. "You're not that person anymore, Ani," said Padmé gently. "Darth Vader is dead."

"Padmé, look at me," he commanded her. She did so. "You cannot live in denial," he told her softly. "You have to face that my actions—what I became—were _my actions_. Darth Vader and Anakin Skywalker were not two warring personalities, two minds, within one body. Darth Vader did not beat down the goodness of Anakin Skywalker. I am both. I am Darth Vader. His deeds are my deeds. I won't let you live a lie."

She looked at him, her lip trembling. "I can't accept that, Ani."

"Why not?"

She took a shuddering breath. "Because if I do then I'll hate you, and I love you too much for that. I'm too happy you're alive to want to kill you—because I've wanted to kill Darth Vader for eighteen years. I've wanted to hurt him like he hurt me. Like he hurt my children." She stood up and fled the room, leaving Luke and Anakin at the table.

"Father…" Luke began uncertainly.

"What is it, Luke?" Anakin asked wearily after a few minutes of complete silence as he collected himself. Padmé hated him. She had every right, of course—but to lose her so soon after finding her again… It was unbearable.

"She doesn't hate you," Luke said gently. "If she hated you, she wouldn't be so upset."

"She should hate me," Anakin said bitterly. "I deserve it."

"Father, you must let go of your guilt," Luke reprimanded. "You cannot change what you were, but you can change what you will become."

Anakin lifted his eyes to stare into Luke's—so like his own, and yet they were so different. "You are somuch wiser than I am," he said at last. "I am proud of you."

"I am proud of you as well, Father," said Luke gently. "You should get back to your room. Your chest will need to be treated."

"We should leave," Anakin said abruptly. "We should get to Bain. I can't stay here."

"If you leave they will never accept you," Luke reminded him. "And they will in time."

"I doubt that," said Anakin dryly.

"I find your lack of faith disturbing, Father," said Luke with a frown.

"What did you say?" Anakin froze.

"What?"

"I think we're more alike than I assumed," he said weakly.

Luke shrugged. "Give them some credit. Half of these guys are ex-cons and smugglers anyway. They'll give you a second chance."

"Speaking of smugglers—where's Solo? And Chewbacca?"

"They've been working on the Falcon," said Luke. "Trying to comprehend our family."

Our family.

It sounded so simple when Luke said it, Anakin mused. But he had destroyed that family—or whatever hopes for it that there had been—when he had joined Palpatine. He had driven Padmé from him, only to find her and lose her again. "I have always wanted to take a closer look at that ship," he admitted, his thoughts still on his wife. Where was she? Was she crying? Had he hurt her, though he had sworn not to?

Luke laughed out loud as he helped his father stand. "I told him that."

"And what did he say?"

"You don't want to know," Luke replied seriously. "But he lets no one touch his ship, except for me and Chewie."

Anakin sighed. "I'd hoped that wasn't the case."


	21. The Rebel Alliance Part 2

Author's Note: Sorry for the long wait… I've been sorting out problems with 24.

_Another Route_

Part 21

* * *

"Mother?" Leia asked cautiously as she stepped inside Amidala's room, hearing the sounds of weeping within it.

"Leia?" Padmé's choked voice asked. "Is that you?"

Leia stepped forward swiftly and saw her mother sitting on her cot, a strange piece of carved wood in her hands. Her face was tear-streaked and eyes swollen. Biting her lip, Leia sat beside her mother and took the woman in her arms. "What is it, Mother?" she asked gently. She didn't need to ask—Vader, or Anakin—whatever he was calling himself—had done something.

"My beautiful girl," Padmé whispered. "I love you, my darling girl, I love you so much."

"I love you too, Mother," said Leia, concerned. "Please tell me what happened."

"I can't bear it, Leia," Padmé whispered. "I can't bear to know that my Anakin was Vader. That he did all of those things."

Leia tensed. How could she presume to comfort her mother when she tried to push the thought of _him_—her _father_—as far out of her mind as possible? "I don't have an answer, Mother," she said at last. "I'm sorry."

"Is it wrong to love him still?" Padmé asked, separating herself from her daughter and looking in her eyes. "Is it horrible of me?"

"No…" Leia responded slowly. "Forgiveness is never a bad thing."

Padmé hung her head. "But I haven't forgiven him, Leia. Everything he did—all those murders—what he did to you—"

A flash of understanding hit Leia. "You cannot forgive him for that," she said firmly. "Those are not offenses against you, Mother. You can only forgive him for what he did to you personally." She swallowed. "The same way that only I can forgive him for what he did to me."

"You mean… You have?" Padmé asked, her eyes shining in hope.

Leia turned away, biting her lip, and felt her mother sag in her arms. "I'm not ready to," she said finally. "But him—you've known him for a lot longer," she said lamely. "That's all I can say."

"My darling child," Padmé said again. She wiped her eyes quickly. "I've been crying like a lovesick girl," she said with a watery smile. "And at my age."

"This… This has been a shock for all of us," said Leia stiffly. "It will take us time."

Padmé sighed. "I'm sorry, Leia, that I didn't tell you about Luke. Or Ani."

"I understand why," Leia told her. "I'm not angry."

"Thank you," said Padmé quietly.

"Maybe you should get some rest," Leia offered. "I can make sure that no one disturbs you."

"No," her mother said. "I'm not tired in the least. I'm going back to Ani's room," she said firmly.

"Mother, you've hardly left his side—"

"He's my husband, Leia," Padmé said pointedly. "I want to be near him." She peered more closely at her daughter. "And why don't you go and spend some time with that smuggler of yours?" she teased.

Leia flushed. "Han isn't a smuggler any more—"

Padmé laughed. "I'd imagine that he would be happy to listen to you," she suggested. "Talk to him. He can help. He's a good man."

"Oh?" Leia asked with a smile on her face.

"I trust your father and brother's judgement," Padmé laughed, and froze. "Well, your father's judgement of Han, at least." Leia was still uncomfortable with the mention of Anakin, and Padmé could tell. "Just go on, Leia," she said to her daughter gently.

Leia looked at her for a long moment before finally nodding. "All right," she said, standing and extending a hand to her mother, who took it and stood. "I'll see you in a while," Leia promised, turning and leaving the room just as Terzé—no longer clothed in armor, but wearing the standard Rebel fatigues—stepped inside.

"My lady," he greeted her. "I've done the usual security checks, and everything has been—"e stopped at Padmé's raised hand. "What is it, my lady?"

"I want you to be an eighteen-year-old young man," said Padmé quietly, striding over to him and placing her hand on his cheek. "I have taken your life and used you selfishly, Terzé."

He shook his head emphatically. "No, my lady, not at all. It has always been an honor and a pleasure serving you."

She smiled kindly at him. "You are a good man, Terzé," she said to him. "Your mother would be so proud of who you have become. But I want you to be a young, carefree Rebel pilot who dreams of his love and is free of worries."

Terzé looked confused. "My lady… I don't understand…"

"I am releasing you from your duties, Terzé," said Amidala formally. "You have served me long and honorably, and for that I am eternally grateful. But the time has come for you to take charge of your life."

Terzé looked at her silently for a moment. "Do not ever hesitate to ask me to do anything, however large or however trivial," he said at last. "I will forever be at your service, my lady."

"I know, my friend," said Padmé with a small smile. "And I yours." She moved forward and embraced the young man. "Thank you for everything you have done, Terzé."

"Thank you, my lady," he replied, stepping back from her. "Master Skywalker is waiting," he said with a smile.

* * *

"Do you feel all right, Father?" Luke asked as they returned to his room.

Anakin glanced up. "I'm fine, Luke," he replied. "But that that incident occurred is another reason that I need to get to Bain. If I am so easily incapacitated—"

"I know," Luke interjected. "I just don't think that anyone wants to see you in that suit," he admitted. "Including me."

Anakin sighed. "I understand. I hate it as much as you do, Luke, but I can't do anything to change it."

"You've tried healing with the Force, Father?" Luke asked earnestly.

"Of course. Nothing works," Anakin said. "The Force doesn't re-grow lost limbs, Luke, and apparently not lung tissue, either."

"There has to be an answer," Luke said, frowning, as they stepped inside the room.

"There is. But Master Windu has decided to withhold it," said Anakin, carefully keeping his bitterness from his tone.

"I made the arrangements to take the _Rescuer _back to Bain," Luke told his father after a moment. "And after that, we'll go to Dagobah."

"Dagobah?"

"Yes," said Luke with a small smile. "That is where Master Yoda lives. Where I trained, for a little while."

"Yoda is the last person I want to see," Anakin said darkly. "And I'm sure he feels the same way."

"Father," Luke said reproachfully. "Your trial—"

"I know, I know. But Yoda has never liked me," Anakin admitted. "He refused to allow me into the Order until he decided I was too dangerous to remain untrained." He eyes darkened momentarily. "He always made me feel inadequate. I was, of course, but…"

"Stop it," Luke said firmly. "I don't want to hear it. You have to forgive yourself sooner or later, Father, and right now the Rebellion and your family needs you to stop wallowing in guilt." Anakin stared at his son in surprise and Luke continued. "I've forgiven myself for killing Dase," he said. "It was difficult, but not impossible. If you can renounce the Dark Side, Father, you can forgive yourself."

Anakin stayed silent, pondering Luke's words. "You're right, of course," he said finally, sitting back down on his bed. "But it is more difficult than it sounds, Luke. You killed one person. I have killed…" he shuddered. "Thousands."

Luke shook his head sadly and sat by his father. "I'm more a murderer than you, Father," he said quietly. "Remember the Death Star?" Anakin froze. "It took me a long time to get past my guilt," Luke said softly. "Especially since I used the Dark Side at the time. I was angry at you."

Neither said anything for a few long moments. "I am sorry for killing your friend," Anakin said finally.

"He was a Rebel pilot," said Luke. "He knew what he was getting into."

"Still…"

"I forgive you," said Luke gently. "We will be leaving tomorrow morning. You have a hearing with the High Command this afternoon. I think you should rest until then. I'll wake you up."

Sighing, Anakin climbed back into his bed. "Thank you, Luke," he said a moment later.

"You're welcome, Father."

* * *

_He was burning burning the flames they were eating him they were melting the leather the metal on his belt it hurt he was screaming he couldn't feel his legs they were gone they hurt he hurt the fire it was on his face he couldn't see he couldn't breathe his lungs were on fire burning a fire in his lungs he was choking gasping screaming in his ears could only hear the flames they were in his hair he was grabbing the sand it was hot trying to get away from the lava the fire just hold on if he could hold on it would stop he was screaming but he didn't have any air he was suffocating he couldn't breathe his lungs were burning he couldn't breathe he couldn't breathe he couldn't breathe_

"ANI! Ani, wake up, wake up!" a hysterical voice roused him, brought him back from the pain.

An oxygen mask was over his mouth and air was forced into his lungs. Anakin opened his eyes, nauseated, pale, and sweaty. "Padmé?" he rasped, looking around wildly. He fought the urge to vomit and flung his arm out, searching for his wife.

He dimly registered a warm hand on his mechanical one. "Ani, what happened? What were you dreaming?"

He turned his head to see Padmé holding his hand to her cheek, her cheeks tearstained. "Father, are you all right?" he heard Luke's voice, full of concern.

He hadn't had that dream in seventeen years.

That dream was why he had stopped sleeping, why he had resorted to his meditation pod instead of the horrors of the night.

He shuddered violently and retched, but nothing came up. "Ani, please…" Padmé begged him. "What was it?"

"I don't want to talk about it," he whispered, concentrating on breathing. "Please don't ask."

Padmé said nothing for a few moments. "I won't," she told him gently. "I won't ask if it's painful for you."

"Padmé…" Anakin began, confused. "I thought… I thought you were angry with me," he said lamely.

She smiled tearfully at him. "Angry, yes. But that doesn't stop me from loving you, Anakin. Or staying at your side."

Anakin felt a rush of relief. He could do anything—he could handle any pain—if she was with him. "Thank you," he told her.

"You have your hearing in a few moments, my love," she told him. "We need to get down to the audience chamber."

Anakin sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed. He still felt weak, but his nausea had faded somewhat. "Let's go, then," he said, pretending to be light-hearted. In reality, this trial was almost as bad as the Jedi Council's.

"Are you sure you don't need to rest for a few more moments?" Padmé asked worriedly. "We don't have to be there right away. We can explain what the problem was to the High Command—"

"Tell them that we're late because Darth Vader had a nightmare?" Anakin asked dryly. "That'll go over well."

"Oh, stop it, Ani," Padmé told him. She frowned. "You know that you can tell me anything, right?"

"I know," Anakin said quietly, subdued. "I love you, Padmé."

"I love you too, my Jedi protector," she teased.

"I will always protect you," he said fiercely. "I'll never let anything happen to you."

"Anakin," she said gently. "You must learn to let me go," she said. "If you do not, then you are merely repeating history."

He stared at her, mouth open. "Padmé… I…"

"Shh," she said comfortingly. "Let's go." She took his arm and linked it with hers. "If you're all right, we shouldn't keep them waiting. Especially since I still have to pack for Bain."

"You're coming with me?" he said in surprise.

"Of course. Luke and I are both coming. I wanted Leia to come as well, but she has pressing duties with the Alliance," said Padmé off-handedly. "And I want to see this little world of yours."

He smiled slightly. "I never used it much."

"Luke told me that you two went there once," Padmé prompted.

"Yes. We stayed for about 3 weeks," Anakin remembered. "It was a nice reprieve from duties."

"Who will command the Imperial Navy now that you're no longer there?" Padmé asked.

"Has anything been said about my disappearance?" he inquired. "Has the Emperor made a statement?"

"No," said Padmé. "I've been watching the news. No mention at all, just to say that the _Executor _is off-duty for the moment."

"Then he's waiting for me to return," said Anakin disgustedly. "Or looking for another way to get Luke."

"Ani… Don't let him…" Padmé gasped. "I'll die—if he gets Luke—"

"I will not let that happen," said Anakin tightly. "Do not worry."

She breathed a sigh of relief. "I couldn't bear it… to lose the two men I love most to that monster…"

Anakin flinched but she said nothing. "Will you enter the room with me?" he asked.

She smiled at his nervousness. "Yes. But as Padmé Naberrie, not Lady Amidala."

"Do they know that you're my wife?"

"I expect that Mothma told them," Padmé replied. "Go on," she told him once he stopped at the proper door.

"Very well," Anakin replied, pulling a cool mask over his features, making them as unreadable as if he still wore a durasteel mask. Padmé released his arm and stepped slightly away from him. He straightened and with a wave of his hand, the door slid open and he stepped forward, Padmé following him to his left.

To all appearances, he was supremely self-confident and carried himself just in the way that they were all accustomed to seeing, despite the oxygen case that he carried. "Darth Vader," a cold voice rang out.

Anakin stopped in the center and clasped his hands behind his back, making eye contact with Mon Mothma, who had spoken. He gave a short bow. "Lady Mothma," he replied, calling on the Force to project his voice and remove some of the hoarseness.

"Also known as Anakin Skywalker," she continued. "You are here to be judged fit or unfit to join the Rebel Alliance. If found unfit, you are to remove yourself from this base immediately with a contingent of guards under the code of honor not to reveal any knowledge that you have learned here. Do you understand?"

"I do," Anakin replied coolly.

"You hereby swear to speak only in truths and to answer any question we ask?"

"Any question within reasonable limits," he replied. "I reserve the right to withhold personal information."

"Did you give that right to your prisoners, Vader?" someone hissed. Anakin made no move that indicated that he heard. Padmé stepped back into the shadows to observe, her face drawn now that she no longer put on a supportive face for her husband.

"State your full rank and titles, Lord Vader," Mothma commanded.

"Darth Vader, Dark Lord of the Sith. Supreme Commander of the Imperial Military. Jedi Knight Anakin Skywalker, Member of the Jedi Council. Colonel in the Army of the Republic," he responded swiftly. "Former Apprentice to Darth Sidious, also known as the Emperor Palpatine. Former Supreme Councilor to aforesaid Emperor."

"Please give a brief description of your duty as the Commander of the Military."

"I made all major decisions on the placement of ships, the deployment of ships, and I directed all major military operations. I was also the commander of the Intelligence network and it was often my duty to personally oversee the interrogations of high-profile prisoners."

"Such as?" someone asked coldly.

"Captain Wedge Antilles," he began. "Brose Va'ara. General Ki'ith Riskel. Princess Leia Organa." His eyes roved the crowd and settled on his newfound daughter, who flinched as her name had been called.

"And do Brose Va'ara and General Riskel still live?" Admiral Ackbar inquired.

"Unfortunately, no. They were executed for treason," Anakin replied, carefully keeping his emotion from his voice.

Someone in the room let out a heavy sigh, while another shouted, "Murderer!"

"That's enough," Mothma said sharply. "We are not here to discuss Colonel Skywalker's past actions. We are here to discuss whether he shall become a member of the Rebel Alliance."

"You're going to let Darth Vader into the Alliance? Are you mad?" someone called out.

"Colonel Skywalker was tortured by the Emperor," said Mothma quietly. "He has as much cause as anyone to seek revenge."

"It is not revenge that I am looking for, Lady Mothma," said Anakin quietly. "I have a duty as a Jedi Knight to the people of the Galaxy. A duty that I have forgotten for the past eighteen years—one that requires me to do all in my power to restore freedom. I hold myself to that cause."

"He also has a duty as the Chosen One," said Padmé boldly, walking from the shadows. "Anakin Skywalker is the man prophesied to destroy the Sith. He can only do so if he has an organization backing him."

"Destroy the Sith?" someone called out incredulously. "He _is _a Sith! You heard him, just now—'Dark Lord of the Sith!'"

"A prophesy?" General Madine asked warily.

"Explain, Colonel," said Mothma wearily. "What prophesy are you talking about?"

Anakin bit his lip slightly—that was a topic he wished to forget. "At the end of the Sith Wars," he began. "There was a powerful Jedi Master who, in his dying moments, had a vision. This vision was recorded and shared by several other Jedi, and foretells of a man born of a woman and of the Force—the so-called 'Son of the Suns.' His purpose in life would be to destroy the Sith forever and to thereby reinstate balance to the Force."

There was silence for a few moments. "And you believe that you're this 'son of the suns?'" Admiral Ackbar asked disbelief. "What is there that proves it?"

"He had no father," Padmé stepped in, sensing her husband's discomfort. "And he was born as a slave on Tatooine, a planet in a binary system."

"So a man ran out on his mother," said someone else caustically. "That doesn't prove anything, Lady Amidala."

"A slave?" someone else asked in surprise.

Anakin's eyes flashed and he tensed at the mention of his mother. Padmé stepped up and put a gentle hand on his forearm. "That is what I thought as well, when I met her," she said gently. "But Shmi Skywalker was a woman of honor. There is also the fact that Anakin had the highest midi-chlorian count in the history of the galaxy."

"Really," said someone dubiously. "Then why hasn't he destroyed the Sith already?"

"I was injured," Anakin said coolly. "Which reduced my power."

"Then how do you expect to defeat the Sith now?" Mothma asked curiously.

"The Force will find a way," said Anakin quietly. "But I am not here to discuss a prophecy. I have resources that I am willing to donate to the Rebellion. You would be a fool to refuse them."

"Such as?" Ackbar asked curiously.

"In addition to my obvious knowledge about the inner workings of the Imperial Military," he began, "I also have a private fleet of highly modified, prototype cruisers, snub fighters, and shuttles, including three prototype Star Destroyers manned by crews loyal to myself."

There was a collective intake of breath around them. "Such an addition to our fleet…" someone began, softening.

"How can you expect us to believe that you have truly renounced the Dark Side, Colonel Skywalker?" A cold voice asked. Anakin closed his eyes briefly, recognizing both his daughter's voice and her Force-signature, which blazed with mistrust and, underneath the surface, disgust and hope. He looked up to see Leia staring at him. "As far as I know, no man or woman who has joined the Sith or become a Dark Jedi has ever returned. You are widely regarded as one of the so-called greatest Siths in history. Why should we believe that you've returned to the Light?"

"Nothing I will say will prove or disprove my loyalty, Princess Leia," Anakin returned calmly. "I do not expect forgiveness nor do I believe that I deserve your trust, inclusion, or loyalty. I am here only to offer my services in the hope that my sincerity is recognized. Should you decide to refuse them, that is, of course, your prerogative. I do not hold any claim to authority as a Jedi Knight in this arena."

"It is my understanding that you underwent a trial officiated by the Jedi Council, Colonel Skywalker," Leia continued ruthlessly. "Please tell the High Command the general consensus of your judges and give a description of the charges held against you."

Anakin bowed his head. She had been there, of course. She knew exactly what to say. "It was not a complete trial, considering that not all of the Council members were present, but—"

"Wait a minute," said someone, confused. "All of the Jedi are dead. How did they give him a trial?"

"Upon death, Jedi become one with the Force," Anakin supplied. "With training, they can learn to manifest themselves in a visible form and retain their personality, memories, and appearances."

"So we could receive council from them?" Mothma asked in surprise.

"I am afraid that only trained Force-sensitives have that ability, Lady Mothma," said Anakin quietly.

"Very well," said someone else. "Answer the Princess's question, Vader."

Anakin mentally sighed. "The charges leveled against me were that of murder, betrayal of the Jedi Order to which I had pledged myself, and betrayal of the Republic."

"How many counts of murder?"

"I don't know," Anakin said, and for the first time in the hearing, his voice went a little softer.

"Give us a rough estimate," someone else asked. "Or is it too many to count?"

"Is this necessary?" Padmé stepped in coldly. "I do not believe that the purpose of this hearing is to judge Colonel Skywalker's past actions, but rather to ascertain his loyalty and trustworthiness to the cause of the Rebel Alliance. As a member of the Jedi Order, The Jedi Council will judge his crimes rightfully and with complete comprehension of them. The High Command, however informed, could not possibly make a righteous and just decision."

"You will forgive us if we find your judgement to be biased, Lady Amidala," said Mothma warningly. "I believe that Princess Leia's question is legitimate. Regardless of his present loyalties, Colonel Skywalker has committed thousands of heinous crimes. If the High Command is to accept him as a member of the Alliance, there remains the issue of integration. There are very few people, if any, who will not resent the idea of working alongside Darth Vader."

"I understand," said Anakin.

"And there remains the issue of your customary clothing," Mothma continued. "I do not believe that it will be appropriate for you to wear—"

"With all due respect, Madam Mothma," said Anakin quietly. "I don't think that anyone hates that suit more than I do.

"Good!" she said. "Then ceasing use will be—"

"Unfortunately," he interrupted her again, "It is a life-support suit," he explained. "It allows me to live without portable oxygen."

Mothma frowned. "Could you not receive cloned lungs, if they're the problem?"

"No," he said uncomfortably.

"Explain."

"I would prefer not to discuss my medical situation, regardless of the level of interest and long-standing speculation that it may have generated," Anakin said coldly. "I reserve the right to personal privacy."

Mothma crossed her arms. "When it influences the ease of your integration if you are to be accepted, Colonel Skywalker, I believe it is important enough to inform us."

"No," Anakin said tightly. "It is my personal business."

"Ani, just tell her," Padmé told him softly, moving forward to touch his arm.

"It is my business," he repeated darkly, sounding for the first time like Vader. Padmé jumped away as though he'd slapped her, and Anakin slumped. "I'm sorry," he told her quietly.

She nodded in wordless acceptance of his apology. "Very well," said Mothma finally. "This hearing is adjourned. Once the High Command has come to a decision, we will inform you," she told Anakin. "Dismissed."

Anakin gave a curt bow and turned, striding out of the hall with his impossible long strides. Once he was outside, he leaned against the wall, and Padmé could tell that he was exhausted. "Are you all right, Ani?" she asked him worriedly.

"I'm fine. Why did you have to bring that stupid prophecy, Padmé?" he asked in a pained voice.

"Anakin, you have avoided that your entire life," she replied firmly, stepping away from him. "You buried it as a padawan, striving for Obi-Wan's approval. You ignored it as a Jedi Knight, and you completely erased it from your memory as a Sith. It is your _duty_! You must accept it!"

"But I can't do it!" he shouted suddenly, sliding to the floor. "Padmé, I can't!"

She knelt beside him. "Anakin…"

"I threw it away," he spat. "I had the chance already, Padmé. I threw it away." He lifted his arms in disgust and ripped off the gloves. "Look at me! Look!"

She turned her eyes away.

"Did you know that Obi-Wan told Luke that I was 'more machine than man?'" he questioned bitterly. "When Luke ran away to Tatooine, and Obi-Wan found him and tried to convince him that I was unsalvageable. When I found him again—that was all that was in his mind as he looked at me. More machine than man? He's right. I am a monster—even if I hadn't done all of those things. I am practically a droid."

Padmé glared at him suddenly and slapped him. "Stop that!" she told him harshly.

He stared at her in complete surprise as blood trickled down his cheek. Her nail had barely grazed his skin, but with no exposure to anything other than cleaning agents, his skin was fragile.

"Stop beating yourself up in guilt, and stop wallowing in self-pity," she said coldly, standing and holding out her hand for him to stand as well. "Your arms and legs are hardly what makes someone human," she said. "And you're not a monster and certainly not a droid. I won't have you talk this way, Anakin. I refuse."

He nodded his head silently hand took her hand, wincing when his uncovered prosthetic touched her skin. She gave no indication that she noticed and just took a small piece of cloth from her pocket and dabbed his cheek. "I'm sorry for hitting you."

"I've done worse."

She shot a warning glance at him and he sighed. "You're right. I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize," she told him next. "I don't need to hear it and I don't want to."

"Padmé…"

"You _are _the Chosen One, Anakin," she said softly. "Accept it."

He looked at her for a long while and finally nodded.

"Then let's go to your room," she said briskly. "We'll have Two-One Bee look at that cut."

* * *

"We have declared you unfit to be a member of the Alliance," said Mothma firmly.

"I understand," Anakin said emotionlessly.

"Please remove yourself from Mustafar base as soon as you are able. We hold you to your oath of confidentiality," she continued. If Mothma noticed his flinch at the name of the planet, she didn't say anything. "Thank you for your interest and support of the Alliance. We hope that there will be no ill will between yourself and the Alliance."

"On the contrary," said Anakin quietly. "I still intend on making my donation of 500 million credits to the Alliance, and I regret that I was unable to give my knowledge to you as well as my private resources."

"Well…" Mothma said, dry-mouthed. "We appreciate the donation very much. Thank you for your generosity."

"Ma'am," Anakin said, bowing slightly and turning to leave.

"If I may inquire, Master Jedi," said Mothma. "Where do you plan on going?"

"I plan on temporarily returning to my world," he told her. "I have no plans beyond then."

"I see," she said finally. "Good luck."

"There is no luck," he said with a small smile. "Only the will of the Force. We shall meet again, my lady, and until then, may the Force be with you."

"And with you, Master Jedi," said Mothma quietly as he left the room.

"500 million credits?" someone whispered.

* * *

"Solo."

Han whipped around to see Vader—_Anakin_, he reminded himself harshly—standing, the breather in hand. He looked a lot better than he had before, Han recognized, and seemed to have weird calm about him. "Look," he began nervously. "I didn't ask the kid to stay with me," he began. "He didn't have to be a smuggler—" He broke off as he saw Anakin laughing quietly. "That's not why you're here?"

Anakin shook his head. "No. I am here to thank you for caring for Luke. You have been a good friend to him."

Han grinned uncomfortably. "He took care of me more than I did 'im, actually."

"Regardless. I appreciate your loyalty," he said, his eyes roving past Han to look at the ship. "You're modifying the left sublight engine?" he asked, interested. "I recommend adjusting the bracing and running a direct line to the hyperdrive. Then you could add a second transformer to the other sublight and you'd be able to get more power."

Han stared at him, mouth open, and then grabbed his datapad, jotting down the notes. "Where'd you come up with that?" he asked. "That's brilliant!"

"I have always enjoyed building flying machines," Anakin explained. "I'm sure you could tell when you visited Bain."

"Yeah!" Han exclaimed. "You have an original Naboo cruiser. I've always wanted to check out the shield generators on those—they're supposed to be the best."

"They are," Anakin confirmed. "I used the technology for my personal star destroyers," he explained. "The generators cannot be harmed from an outside attack."

"What about the shields themselves, though?" Han questioned.

"They're a proton force field," Anakin told him. "They repel objects of a certain magnetism. If hit directly, they can destroy the object. It's similar to the technology of a lightsaber."

"Wow," said Han, impressed.

"This is an impressive ship," said Anakin, standing and craning his head to look at the Falcon's underbelly. "Though I'd wager that the wiring is a mess."

"Thanks," said Han, gratified. "It's nice to hear someone actually appreciate her. And yeah, the wiring's a bit screwed," he admitted. "Sometimes I did it, sometimes Chewie did it."

"I see," said Anakin, walking over and inspecting a part. "I have a request of you, Captain Solo," he said formally.

"Yeah?"

"I am leaving the _Rescuer _here as a token of my goodwill," Anakin said. "I require a ride to Bain."

"And you want me to give it?" Han finished. "Sure. Is Luke coming?"

"Yes. And Lady Amidala."

Han went violently red. "Leia's mother," he said softly. "I forgot. You're, uh, Leia's dad, right?"

"Biologically," Anakin said truthfully. "But I executed her adoptive father, a man named Bail Organa. He was once a friend of mine."

Han winced. "Right. But…uh… I guess I need your permission, if I'm to…" he trailed off, looking at Anakin hopefully.

"If you're to, 'what?'" Anakin asked, amused.

"Well, me and Leia… I've known her for a while…" Han said uncomfortably.

"Are you asking for my permission to court the daughter that you have known longer than I have?" Anakin questioned.

"Well… yeah…" Han mumbled.

"You saved my life, Captain Solo," said Anakin. "I will grant you that privilege. It's the least I can do."

"Great!" said Han, relieved. "And do you think I could have a look at that Naboo shield generator while we're on Bain?"

"I think that I can arrange it."

* * *

Sorry for the long wait, everybody... but if you want to know where I am in terms of posting the next chapter, visit my livejournal: http/www.livejournal/users/arzimraphel or my homepage http/ and sorry for the wait, again!

-Ar-Zimraphel


	22. Bain

Hey, everyone! I'm glad to hear that you all enjoyed 21 (for the most part… somebody from isn't happy with my Anakin, Padmé, or Palpatine characterizations. Oh, well.) and instead of posting 22 next week like I had PLANNED, I decided to do it now. Maybe if I run out of chapters to post, I'll be more motivated to write than I am at the moment. 

Please comment; I love to hear what you have to say! (And yes, that includes the dude/dudette who didn't like my characterizations, lol. I can handle criticism, too, lol.)

----

"Luke!" Padmé called out to her son as she left her husband's empty room.

The blond-haired youth whipped around. "What is it, Lady Ami--Mother?"

"Do not feel pressured to call me 'mother,' Luke," Padmé said gently. "I was only wondering if you knew where Anakin has gone."

"You mean he's not in there?" Luke asked in surprise. "I left him in there a few hours ago."

Padmé furrowed her brow. "Do you think something is wrong?" she asked nervously. "Maybe someone attacked him, like in the mess hall, or maybe he's locked in some room--"

"I would know if something had happened to him, Mother," Luke reassured her. "Let me look for a moment," he said, and closed his eyes, reaching out with the Force to feel his father's presence. After a second he opened them again. "He's in the hangar," he said with some surprise.

"We have to leave late in the sleep cycle tomorrow, so I think he should rest. Maybe you could help him?" Padmé asked hopefully. "I don't want to him to have nightmares. The Force knows that he's had enough of those," she said bitterly.

"Only if his guard is down," Luke admitted. "He'll meditate, most likely. That's what he normally does."

"I see," said Padmé as she took her son's arm and walked down the hall towards the main hangar.

"Can you tell me what he used to be like?" Luke asked suddenly. "Before everything went bad?"

Padmé sighed. "He was one of the most famous Jedi Knights in the galaxy," she remembered. "He and Obi-Wan pulled off some amazing missions together. Besides Master Windu and Yoda, of course, they were considered to be the best. Anakin was—and still is, to my understanding—the best star pilot in the galaxy."

"But what was he like? Besides all that?" Luke pressed. "When he wasn't being the famous Jedi Knight?"

Padmé let out a fond smile. "He always made me laugh," she reminisced. "He played jokes on people. The younglings loved him—he was like a big brother to them. A hero." She stopped, obviously remembering his betrayal of the children, but continued. "He was very excited when I told him of my pregnancy," she told Luke, who grinned. "He was so thrilled about becoming a father."

"Really?"

Padmé nodded. "He wanted to tell the Jedi Order about us, to reveal our marriage so that we wouldn't have to hide, but I stopped him. He wanted so badly for everyone to know that we were going to have a baby. Well, babies. But we didn't know that at the time."

"What if he hadn't turned?" Luke asked quietly. "What if Palpatine hadn't gotten to him?"

Padmé smiled sadly. "It's never good to dwell on lives that never were, Luke," she told him gently. "We must focus on the present. This is our situation; we must learn from it, adapt to it, and change it as best we can."

"That sounds like Jedi wisdom," Luke said, raising his eyebrow.

"It is," Padmé admitted. "I've spent my share of time around Jedi to know how they think."

"Here's the hangar," said Luke, flicking his finger and opening the door. "Father should be over there somewhere," he told her, pointing to the far left. "I'll walk you."

They walked over and, to their surprise, found Han, Chewie, and Anakin arguing about the dismantled hyperdrive that lay on a worktable.

"No, I'm telling you, if you use a split cable it'll go faster," Anakin persisted. "Trust me."

"I've never used a split cable and I don't intend to now," Han retorted hotly. "They're dodgy. I had a buddy of mine who said that his shorted out all the time!"

"Then it was faulty," Anakin returned. "Split cables are perfectly fine, as long as you install it correctly with the proper connectors."

"No," Han said stubbornly. "It doesn't need to go to both sublights. And if it does then I'll run two separate lines."

"But then the connection speed won't be as good!" Anakin protested. "If you do a split cable, that's eliminated and you've got a split second difference!" They both paused to listen to Chewie's annoyed roar.

"Chewie! How could you say that? You're supposed to be on my side!" Han gaped. "Traitor!"

"He's not a traitor, just smart," said Anakin smugly, leaning back and crossing his arms. "It's two out of three, Solo. A split cable is the best choice."

"Well it's my ship," Han grumbled. "I don't trust split cables."

Anakin rolled his eyes. "Your friend probably got it off of the black market. I've got high-quality ones and some connectors that'll make quick work of it."

Padmé and Luke exchanged amused glances. "I haven't seen you smile that much in two decades," said Padmé, making their presence known. "My vote goes with Anakin, Captain Solo. I've known him long enough to recognize that he understands starships."

"Great," Han mumbled.

"I was looking for you but you weren't in your room," said Padmé, turning to her husband, who still looked pleased about his victory. "I should have known that you'd be in here, getting your hands dirty in engine grease."

Anakin shrugged, still looking relaxed. "Father, when do you want to leave?" Luke questioned.

Anakin smiled slightly. "Depends on Han. Looks like he's our ride."

"Really?" Luke asked delightedly.

Han nodded. "He begged me, so I couldn't say no."

Anakin rolled his eyes. "More like I said aloud what you were thinking."

"Hey!" Han protested. "I don't like you readin' my mind!"

"I didn't," Anakin returned, laughing. "But you just confirmed my point."

Han closed his mouth abruptly. "I figure we can leave in the morning," he said. "We've got a while 'fore we get to Bain, anyhow."

"Oh, Master Luke! Master Luke, I have been wondering where you are!"

They all turned to see C-3PO waddling down the steps. "Captain Solo seemed to have accidentally locked me in a spare parts locker, I've only just got out!" he explained.

"Threepio?" Anakin said in surprise.

"I'm sorry, sir, do I know you?" The golden droid inquired.

"You know him?" Han questioned.

"Han, you locked him up?" Luke asked reprovingly. The smuggler grinned and shrugged. "I had to do something. He wouldn't shut up—Cutie said this, Cutie said that."

"Cutie?" Padmé asked curiously.

"Cutie, as in my protocol droid on Bain?" asked Anakin. "By the way, Luke, I should never let you name my droids, ever again," he said darkly, looking at his son, who grinned. "Do you know how ridiculous it sounds to comm my droid 'Cutie' when I'm on a transport back to Bain with a squadron of stormtroopers?"

"I thought it was nice," said Luke innocently, while Han laughed.

Anakin stood, taking care not to upset his portable oxygen. "Threepio, you don't remember me?" he asked.

"I'm terribly sorry, sir—"

"Anakin Skywalker," he said, interrupting the droid.

"I apologize," Threepio said. "But I have had at least one memory wipe, sir—"

"Oh," Anakin said in understanding. "Then access Pattern Code 347, and recall Basic 1."

A strange buzzing came from Threepio's head for a moment and his photoreceptors shut off for a split second. "Oh, my Maker! Master Anakin, I haven't seen you in almost eighteen years!" The droid said prissily. "What happened to you, Maker? You look terrible!"

"Thanks," Anakin said wryly.

"Hold on a second!" Han shouted. "You _made _Threepio?"

"Yes. When I was nine," said Anakin. "He was a gift for my mother."

"You built him?" Han repeated. "As in, assembled, wired, put together?"

Anakin nodded. "Why is that so surprising?"

Han shook his head as if trying to clear it. "But _why_?"

"He was a gift," Anakin said, shrugging. "It was my first experience with personality circuits. Before that, I'd just worked on astromechs and transmechs, which don't really have personalities. Artoo excepting, of course."

"You know Artoo too?" Han said in surprise.

"Oh course," Anakin confirmed. "He was mine for a long time."

Han wiped his forehead and massaged his temples. "First, you're the famous podracer, then you built the most annoying droid in the galaxy… Got any other secrets you'd like to share with the club?"

"Now that you mention it, I did invent the hyperdrive," Anakin teased.

"Really?" Han's eyes went wide, and Luke burst out into laughter.

"He's kidding, Han."

"Right," said Han, reddening. "I was jus' playin' along."

"It's good for you to do this," said Padmé, smiling at her husband.

"A nice distraction," he said, sighing and leaning back into his chair. "It's been a while since I've actually worked on a ship."

"What are we going to do? About the Alliance, I mean?" Padmé asked worriedly. "I didn't expect them to refuse you."

"I did," Anakin told her. "But I can read their minds, so…"

"Anakin," Padmé said sternly. "You shouldn't—"

"They were directed at me!" Anakin protested. "It's not like I was probing their minds or anything. They would've felt that."

Han let out a groan. "I forgot you were into that Jedi stuff too," he muttered.

Anakin glanced sidelong at him. "A little," he told him seriously.

Han rolled his eyes. "Shaddup."

"Mother! I was looking for you," said a new voice. They turned to see Leia jogging up to them. Her face tightened when she saw Anakin, and his smile dimmed and the crow's feet around his eyes reappeared. He set down the tool he was holding and turned away from her.

Padmé noticed their reactions with a frown. "What is it, darling?"

"You're leaving with him?" Leia said, not hedging at all. She placed her hands on her hips. "We need you here. You're supposed to officially join the High Command tomorrow."

"That can wait," said Padmé serenely.

"Mother, you have a responsibility to the Alliance," Leia said hotly. "You can't just leave because your husband returns from the dead. You're safer here."

Padmé crossed her arms. "I am safest wherever Anakin is," she said coolly. "I will go with him, Leia. I don't want to hear anything else about it."

"Oh, yes, because _he_ can take care of himself," said Leia scathingly. "'Let's go jump into a pit of lava!'"

Anakin flinched and Luke stepped forward. "That is not what happened," said Luke tightly, crossing his arms. "Leia, you need to stop this. I thought you were okay with everything. You _did_ cover for him."

"Stop what?" she returned. "I may have covered for you, but I'm the only one here who realizes that he's _Darth Vader_. Even if he has left the Dark Side, that doesn't make everything okay." She turned her eyes to Anakin. "You're still a murderer," she said darkly. "And I'm the only one who bothers to remember it!"

Anakin cringed but said nothing. "Stop it," Padmé said coldly.

"Leia… He has changed," Han said quietly, standing.

She whirled on him. "Great, you too, Han? You've joined the Darth Vader fan club as well? Splendid!"

"That's enough," said Anakin quietly, standing to his full height. "Your quarrel is with me, not them. Don't jeopardize your relationships with others because you're angry with me."

"Angry? Angry is hardly the word I would choose," said Leia coldly. "Disgusted. Disbelieving. Ashamed."

"Leia Organa—" Padmé began tightly, but stopped at Anakin's raised hand.

"I deserve all of it, Princess," he said quietly. "But don't hurt other people because of your feelings for me."

"What do you mean, 'hurt other people?'" she asked suspiciously.

"Your mother. Your brother," he told her gently. "Walk with me for a few minutes."

"The last thing I want is to be near you," Leia said. "I want you to leave as soon as possible and I don't ever want to see you again. I don't care that you donated money to the Alliance. I don't care that Mother thinks you're some kind of hero, that Luke worships you. I hate you! You might be my biological parent, but you murdered my real father. I'll never forgive you."

"Your anger achieves nothing, Princess," said Anakin, though it was apparent that her words had hurt him.

She glared at him. "But _your _anger sure accomplished a lot, didn't it? Because of you, all the Jedi are dead. You should die because of that."

"If that is what you truly believe, I accept your judgement," he said calmly. He lifted the portable oxygen case out to her. "Take it from me, if you believe that I should die."

She stared at him, her mouth open in surprise. "Anakin," Padmé said nervously. "Anakin, I—"

"I trust her judgment," Anakin repeated. "She is her mother's daughter."

Leia bit her lip and her arms fell limp at her hands. She bowed her head. "You shouldn't die," she mumbled.

"I disagree," he told her quietly. "But I thank you for the confidence."

She looked up at him, her eyes brimming with tears. "The day you killed my father, I swore to kill you. I swore to destroy the Empire."

"I swore to save Padmé's life at any cost," he returned gently. "I swore to do anything to keep her safe. I ended up losing my soul. I ended up murdering thousands. Do not follow my path, my daughter. Let go of your hate. Let go of your anger. Both are paths to the Dark Side."

She stepped back from him. "I'm sorry."

"It is not you who needs to apologize, Princess," said Anakin. "I have caused you a great deal of pain. I only hope that some day, you will find it in you to forgive me."

She nodded silently and turned to Padmé. "Mother, have a safe journey," she said quietly. "I look forward to your return."

"Thank you, Leia," said Padmé gently, giving her daughter an embrace. "Don't worry."

Leia smiled weakly and turned, walking quickly out of the hangar. Anakin sank into his chair. "Do you think she will…?"

"One day," Padmé said confidently. "One day she will, Anakin."

----

"Are you ready, Father?" Luke stepped inside Anakin's room to see his father carefully wrapping his belt around his waist.

"Yes," Anakin said, fingering the loop where a lightsaber was meant to hang. He stared at the wall wistfully.

"I've been meaning to speak to you about that," said Luke suddenly, moving forward to unclip his lightsaber from his belt. "This is yours, Father. Thank you for letting me borrow it."

Anakin mouth dropped open. "You never made your own?" he said with some surprise.

Luke shook his head. "You were going to teach me, remember?"

Anakin smiled. "I still will, if you would like. I have the materials."

"Really?" Luke asked eagerly. "Great! Then you should take yours back." He handed the metallic cylinder out to his father who accepted it almost reverently.

Anakin fingered the delicate grip that he had spent a week constructing, wishing for the trillionth time that he could feel it under his thumb. "Thank you," he whispered, gripping it with both hands and raising it. "When we get to Bain we should practice. I would like to see how your technique has improved."

"Not by much," Luke admitted. "Yoda focused on mental exercises rather than combat."

"Yoda would," Anakin said cryptically as he eased the lightsaber onto the belt. "Thank you, Luke," he repeated. "A Jedi's lightsaber—the one that he builds—is an extension of his arm, of his will, and is part of the Jedi's connection with the Force. As Palpatine's apprentice, he gifted me with a lightsaber rather than allow me to build my own. It was another method of control," he explained. "The same way I used to take your lightsaber aboard the _Executor_. If you had built your weapon, I would never have been able to take it from you."

"Really?" Luke asked, surprised.

Anakin nodded. "Let's go. Your mother and Solo will be waiting."

----

"Have we received clearance?" Anakin asked once he and Luke arrived at the hangar, where Han, Chewie, Padmé, and the droids were already waiting.

"Yes," said Padmé. "I went to them. They were a bit surprised to hear that Captain Solo and I were both leaving," she said with a small smile.

"You may return to the base as soon as you can," said Anakin immediately. "I'm not going to keep you from your duty."

"Nonsense, Ani," said Padmé. "I want to be wherever you are. We've spent too long apart."

"I agree," he told her quietly. "Is the ship on the landing pad?"

Han nodded. "I put her out there a while ago."

"Then let's go," said Anakin, and Padmé took his hand discreetly, lacing her fingers with his. He glanced down and his lips quirked in a half smile.

The doors slid open to reveal the landing pad and Anakin looked up.

He froze.

Mustafar.

With a soft cry he fell to the ground, trembling. "Ani!" Padmé asked worriedly. "Ani, are you all right?"

It was as though he didn't hear her—all he could hear was the sound of flames in his hears, the smell of burning flesh—_his flesh_—the taste of acrid smoke eating away at his trachea, burning his lungs. Obi-Wan's face flashed before his eyes.

_"You were the Chosen One, Anakin! You were supposed to destroy the Sith, not join them! Bring balance to the Force, not leave it in Darkness!"_

The searing pain at his legs and arm as they were cut away, as he fell with a sickening thud to the bank, began to slide down, so close to the molten lava. As the remains of his limbs ignited, as the flames crawled up his skin, as he clawed futilely at the bank, trying desperately to climb up.

_"I HATE YOU!"_

His eyes were burning, stinging; Obi-Wan's face above him was blurry._ "You were my brother, Anakin! I loved you!"_

"ANAKIN!"

For a brief moment he opened his eyes to see Padmé's face swimming above his. "Padmé…" he gasped.

_"You're going down a path I can't follow!"_

_"You're breaking my heart!"_

His fingers, clenched as they drew the breath from her lungs, as they crushed her trachea—her hands clawing at her neck, her eyes wide and terrified. "_An-i!" _she gasped, but there was no sound as he slowly took her life away from her in his anger and hurt betrayal.

_"Let her go, Anakin!"_

With a moan, Anakin stood from his spot on the landing pad and stumbled away from the group, ignoring the cries of his son and his wife. He had to get there; he had to see the place the physical reality of Darth Vader had been born. Unthinkingly, he leapt across the cables and the thin supports on which he and Obi-Wan had fought so long ago, the lava swimming beneath them. The Force propelled his body further than Luke could follow and it perfected his balance as he leapt onto a repulsordrift.

The fumes of the lava rose up to greet him and he had to actively stop himself from vomiting at the nausea they awakened in him. Even with the oxygen, they made breathing difficult. He felt a shadow of the pain in his lungs but he ignored it, single-mindedly knowing that he just had to get there, he had to get to that place.

The Force was strong on the side of the bank. Without his own volition, he leapt across the flames and the flow, landing at the peak of the bank.

His eyes played tricks on him, he knew, because he could see the faint outline of himself, eighteen years earlier, slipping down. He could see Obi-Wan crying out to him, trying to make him understand.

Why hadn't he listened? Why had he allowed himself to become so blinded by pain and rage that he couldn't see that Obi-Wan was trying desperately to bring him back from the brink of Darkness? Why had he allowed his fear to cloud his judgement, his morals? Why had he let Palpatine manipulate him into destroying the Jedi? Into murdering the younglings?

He fell to his knees at the top of the bank and held his face in his hands. He was struggling for breath—the breather wasn't made for this environment—but he couldn't care less at the moment. He had to understand. He had to comprehend this place—what this place had created.

Here, the monster—in the physical and mental sense—that he became was created.

It was here that Anakin had ceased to be a man. Here that he had become more machine than man, twisted and evil, as Obi-Wan had called him. Here that he had been rendered dependent on machines to keep him alive—here that his unceasing rage had been assured.

Fear.

Aggression.

Hate.

All are paths to the Dark Side.

Paths that he would never take again regardless of the cost. He would never again succumb to the fury that had warmed him and reassured him as a Sith.

"Father!"

Anakin slowly got to his feet as Luke leapt from a repulsordrift to land by his side. "This is where it happened?" Luke asked in sudden understanding.

Anakin nodded. "Yes." His voice was a whisper, his breathing ragged.

"Are you all right?" Luke asked, concerned.

Anakin forcefully repressed the shadows of pain that crossed into his psyche. "I am," he responded finally. "I'm sorry if I scared you."

"It's okay," said Luke, taking his arm. "This isn't healthy," he told his father.

"I know," Anakin admitted as he started coughing. Once he had managed to stop, he rasped, "I just had to see it."

"I understand," said Luke, and Anakin knew that his son did understand. Had he not lived it along with his father?

Above them, the Falcon suddenly descended and the boarding ramp was lowered. "Let's go, Father," said Luke gently. Together, they climbed aboard.

"Do not ever scare me like that again, Anakin Skywalker."

They looked up to see Padmé's white face as she glared at her husband, hands on her hips. "I'm sorry, Padmé," Anakin told her quietly. "I won't." He coughed twice and she immediately went to him.

"I'm not mad," she said gently. "But that was stupid. Do you _want _to destroy what's left of your lungs?"

"No," Anakin said, sitting beside her as Luke went up to join Han and Chewie in the cockpit. "I wasn't close enough for the fumes to combust," he told her.

"So it was good for you then," she said sarcastically. "Wonderful."

"I'm fine, Padmé," he told her as she forcefully pressed an oxygen mask over his face. "I have put it behind me."

Her eyes widened in understanding. "I'm glad," she told him honestly.

"Me too," he told her, leaning back against the comfortable couch that was part of the Falcon's lounge.

She leaned down and rested her cheek on his chest and wrapped her arms around his waist. "I love you," she told him, her words muffled by the several layers that were his Jedi robes.

"I love you too. What are you doing?" he asked her, reaching down and placing a hand on her back.

"As soon as you put that horrid suit on I won't be able to touch you," she explained, and Anakin felt a stab of guilt and regret shoot through him before it disappeared into the Force.

"I'm sorry," he told her. "I wish it was otherwise."

"I know you do," she said, looking up at him. "You more than anyone, probably. But I still hate it."

"You hate what it represents," he told her. "When you look at me, you will see Darth Vader."

"No," she began hollowly. "I know you're Anakin—"

"Padmé," he said reprovingly.

She sighed. "You're right. I _will _see Vader, even though I know it's you. But I've spent the last eighteen years hating whoever was behind that mask, Ani. It's deeply imbedded."

"I understand," he told her calmly, bypassing his regret. "I promise that I will do all that I can to get rid of it, Padmé."

"I know," she said, resting her head on his chest once more. "If feels nice to do this," she told him tiredly. "It's been so long."

"I'm a little different."

"Not where it counts," she returned. "Luminous beings are we, not this crude matter," she quoted.

He said nothing for a long time.

----

Two days later, the calm, serene environment that hyperspace created disintegrated quickly. As soon as they exited the hyperjump, Anakin tensed, just as Han called from the cockpit, "Hey, your lordship!" he said nervously.

"What is it?" Padmé asked worriedly as she followed Anakin's movements into the cramped cockpit.

The site of a familiar, 8-kilometer long, coal-black spearhead that hung over Bain answered her question. "What are we gonna do?" Han asked anxiously.

"They must be here on the Emperor's orders," said Anakin finally. "They're going to try and get us in a Tractor beam."

"How do you know?" Han asked.

Anakin stared at him. "That's my ship," he said as though it was obvious. "I designed their strategies. The Emperor doesn't know what ship we'll arrive on, so they have orders to detain all approaching ships."

"Does that mean they're aware of your defection?" asked Padmé interestedly. "There's been nothing on the news, Ani. That kind of information would be quick to leak, even from the best crew."

"I don't know," Anakin admitted. "Solo, pull left," he said quickly.

Han did as he was told, but the damage was done. "I can't!"

"Kreth," Anakin muttered. "I should have taken the controls."

"No way," Han said instantly. "I don't let anyone else pilot my ship."

Anakin rolled his eyes. "Arm yourselves," he said finally. "They aren't going to recognize me. Padmé," he said, turning to his wife. "I'm going to have to be Darth Vader for a while."

She paled. "I understand," she told him, biting her lip.

"Luke," Anakin told his son. "Watch over her," he commanded. Luke nodded just as the Falcon descended into the cargo bay of the _Executor_'s hangar.

A voice on the comm called, "_Millennium Falcon_, lower your boarding ramp immediately and prepare for a search and seizure."

"Negative, Captain Best," said Anakin, who had called on the Force to make his voice deeper and richer, though it still sounded nothing like the vocoder. "This is Darth Vader," he continued. "Inform Admiral Piett of my arrival at once."

"I think that I would know my own superior's voice, unidentified man," said the man. "Lord Vader will be most seriously displeased when he gets word of someone's impersonation of him." Padmé frowned and glanced towards her husband, just as he concentrated as though looking at a far-off point, and raised his gloved hand, flexing it slightly.

The entire party paled as sudden sputtering and choking echoed across the comm. Anakin's arm dropped and his eyes lost the glaze of focus. "Understood, Lord Vader," said the man's voice shakily, hoarse and raw.

Padmé stared at her husband. "What did you do?" she asked, her eyes narrowed.

"I did what Darth Vader would do, my love," said Anakin quietly. "I didn't hurt him, though. Just scared him."

"Scared me too," Han muttered to himself. "I didn't think the rumors were true."

"I wish that they were just rumors," Anakin admitted. "I had… a low tolerance for incompetence."

Padmé winced. "Ani…"

"I cannot change the past, Padmé," Anakin said firmly. "What's done is done. All that remains is to accept it." He grinned. "Plus, they aren't going to shoot us down, now."

She nodded silently and followed her husband out of the ship, Luke at her side and Han and Chewie behind them.

As expected, the admiral waited for them, looking nervous. Anakin stalked up to him. "Piett," he growled. "On whose orders is my ship here?"

Piett blanched. "My… My lord?" he asked doubtfully, his eyes caught by the horrific scarring and the oxygen that Anakin carried at his side. His glance drifted to the lightsaber at Anakin's belt.

"Yes, Admiral," Anakin replied coldly, once more drawing on the Force to support his voice. "Answer my question." He crossed his arms in front of his chest in a familiar posture he know the Admiral would recognize.

Piett straightened. "The Emperor's orders, my lord," he explained. "We are supposed to deliver anyone that comes to this system to him personally.."

"It is _my _system," Anakin said darkly. "I do not appreciate being caught on a Tractor beam while I am attempting to return to it."

"My orders, Lord Vader," Piett said nervously. "From the Emperor…"

"I understand that, Admiral," Anakin said, annoyed.

His eyes narrowed as a sudden flash of precognition hit him, just as Piett said miserably, "I have orders to detain anyone attempting to enter the system." He raised his hand and a squadron of stormtroopers marched forward. "Including yourself, seeing as you're a passenger," he mumbled, terrified out of his wits.

Anakin's first instinct was to send the stormtroopers flying into the wall and forcibly make Piett do as he was told. He gave a mental sigh. He was a Jedi, not a Sith. The Dark Side was ever tempting—he had to resist it. He settled for a sharp question. "You would take your own commander into custody, Piett?"

Piett turned his eyes away and a horrible sense of foreboding swamped Anakin's senses.

Oh, no.

He whipped around and used the Force to shove Luke, Padmé, Han and Chewie back up the boarding ramp and shouted, mentally and physically, "RUN!"

Padmé's eyes widened and she did as she was told, just as Chewie scooped her up and leapt inside the Falcon, Han following him just as Luke flew backwards, seemingly out of his control. Luke cried out, "Father!" just as hit his head sharply on the ground and lost consciousness.

The presence that had been hidden from him appeared quite suddenly. Nauseated, Anakin turned slowly to see a contingent of Royal Guards flanking the shrunken, hooded form of Darth Sidious as he walked slowly towards Anakin as the Millennium Falcon lifted into the air. Anakin used the Force to push the ship past the force-field that kept the hangar bay separate from space, but it was suspended, stopped, by a power summoned by the single shriveled hand that had emerged from Sidious' robes.

"Ah," Palpatine said, his horrible voice. "Your lovely _wife_. She lives. I suspected as much. How… fortunate."

"Release them," Anakin said in a cold voice, his hand resting on his lightsaber and ignoring the barb.

"It would be so easy to end what you began, my former apprentice," Palpatine hissed. "I could even use your method. A little squeeze—your pretty little Amidala is gone."

Anakin raised his hand—the other compromised by the portable oxygen—and raised the most powerful Force-shield around the Falcon that he could create. "No. You stole her from me once, Palpatine. It will not happen again."

"Don't be foolish, Skywalker," Palpatine snarled. "You cannot defeat me."

"Your overconfidence is your weakness," Anakin responded as he released his apprehension and fear for Padmé into the Force before it had a chance to settle in his heart. He swallowed as his gaze drifted to his son, lying still on the floor. "Let Luke go," he commanded, dry-mouthed.

"My new apprentice? He may have evaded me once, Skywalker, but it was only a matter of time before your son was mine. I will not relinquish him."

"He will never be your apprentice," Anakin spat. "He will not turn."

"Why? Is his loyalty to the Jedi as famed as was Anakin Skywalker's?" Palpatine asked mockingly. "I did not have as much time to prepare him as I did you, of course, and you had to go and ruin your potential as soon as you finally did become mine, but he will turn. I have foreseen it."

Anakin didn't let himself hear the taunts. Palpatine was only attempting to provoke him into using the Dark Side—and if he did that, there was no turning back. This was his second chance. His only chance. "I am the Chosen One," he told Sidious firmly. "And Luke is my son. He will not turn."

"The 'Chosen One,'" Sidious spat disgustedly. "Jedi nonsense. You will not defeat me. You cannot. You will die, Skywalker."

"You underestimate the power of the Force," said Anakin, not allowing himself the shred of doubt that grew within his breast. He wasn't powerful enough to defeat his former master, he knew, but if he could just distract the Emperor long enough for Luke to escape—for the _Falcon_ to get off of the _Executor_—

"The Jedi are weak fools," Sidious said in a disgusted tone. "They grasp pretty tricks and mystic drivel, blind to the truth that only the Dark Side lends power." He focused his amber gaze on his former apprentice. "You will not interfere with your son any longer, Anakin Skywalker. The time has come for you to die." The red-robed guards marched forward to surround Luke, the Emperor, and Anakin.

Anakin ignored the guards and raised his lightsaber with his right hand. His eyes narrowed. "You cannot kill me," he snarled.

"Oh, it's simple enough," Palpatine croaked, lifting his hand. Suddenly, the portable oxygen ripped itself from Anakin's hand and a stab of panic swept through him—he had forgotten about it, forgotten that he was dependent on it. The tubes pulled from his nose and it suddenly felt as though a pillow was pressed against his face and he gasped for air, willing his lungs to work—just this once. He fell to his knees, his lightsaber still clenched in his fists.

"There," Sidious hissed. "Your men get to watch you die the same way you disposed of so many under your command. Fitting, isn't it?"

Anakin lifted his eyes to meet the Sith's. The familiar sensations of suffocation and panic had settled in, but he pushed them to the back of his mind, focusing on the job at hand. "He won't turn," he gasped, his voice coming out as a weak whisper.

Palpatine let out a long slow laugh as Anakin's strength dwindled. "He will. And at last, the Jedi will be no more!"

_NO! _Anakin screamed mentally as his awareness faded from him. _I can't have failed so easily! _Pulling on all his strength, he got slowly to his feet and swayed, fighting unconsciousness and reaching out to steady himself, only to find that there was no such support near himt

"Stubborn to the last," Palpatine said, shaking his head in mock chastisement. "If you insist." He raised his hands, and Anakin realized what he was going to do just as the Force-lightning poured out from the Sith's fingers. He tried desperately to raise his lightsaber to block the attack, but he had no energy—it was all he could do to stay conscious, to fight the suffocation. _Anakin, your lightsaber! _A desperate voice cried out in his mind. _Obi-Wan? _Anakin wondered dumbly, teetering on the brink of passing out. The Force-lightning seemed to move in slow motion—he could see it streaking towards him, he knew that it would kill him, but he couldn't move. His vision began to fade. _ANAKIN! FIGHT IT! _Obi-Wan's voice shouted. _Master… _Anakin managed weakly. 

_YOU MUST BREATHE, ANAKIN! _Obi-Wan was terrified, frantic.

_Can't… can't… Help me, Master!_

Suddenly, unexplainable, unimaginable power surged through limbs that were no longer there and gave him strength. In a fraction of a second, he raised his lightsaber to block the streams of Force-lightning, but as the Dark energy hit the blade, it propelled him backwards across the hangar bay, sending his body crashing into various crates. A shrill scream—whether it was aloud or in his head, he couldn't be sure—pierced Anakin's consciousness as the power ebbed from him, taking with it his consciousness and leaving him in pain. _ANI! NOOOOOO!_ And then there was nothing.

----

"Get that one," Palpatine commanded to his guards. The hangar was silent. "Don't let that ship leave. I will deal with its occupants personally," he added to the Admiral—Pott? Pattel?—whose face was pale and sweaty. He was loyal to Vader, then. Strange. He would have to be disposed of soon. But right now, the man needed to keep control of the ship while Palpatine prepared the son of Skywalker. He allowed himself a smile. At last, he had his apprentice.

I know it's a terrible cliffhangar. Sorry. It was the perfect place to stop.

--Kellen

(Ar-Zimraphel)


	23. Hero In The Ranks

Another Route

Part 23

* * *

Padmé sprinted out of the Millennium Falcon's lounge, paying no heed to Han's startled cry or Chewie's roar. They had watched it all, locked inside the ship, as Palpatine slowly killed her husband and stole her son. The instant Anakin had hit the crates, the Falcon had slipped, somehow, in the air, and Han had retaken the controls and brought the ship to the landing pad.

Now, Padmé ran down the boarding ramp and thrust past the squadron of storm troopers headed towards her husband. Despite her limited Force-sensitivity, she couldn't tell if Anakin was alive. Ignoring the surprised shouts at her sudden appearance, Padmé finally reached her husband's broken body.

His lips were tinged blue and he was unconscious. Padmé let out a cry and buried her face in his shoulder. "Anakin! Ani, can you hear me?"

Several cuts on his face were bleeding. Padmé hastily wiped away the blood and listened for a heartbeat. It was the same—steady and strong. Padmé's lip curled. A pacemaker.

"Excuse me, ma'am—"

Padmé looked up to see a very pale officer staring at her. Padmé wiped away her tears. "He needs help."

"The Emperor has decreed—"

"I DON'T CARE!" Padmé screamed. "THAT BASTARD HAS TAKEN EVERYTHING FROM ME! HE TOOK MY SON! I WON'T ALLOW HIM TO TAKE MY HUSBAND AWAY!"

Piett—as his identification indicated, took a step back. "Husband?" he asked dumbly, staring at Padmé's tear-streaked face and then at Vader's unmoving form.

"Yes," Padmé said quietly, her energy spent. "Please help him. You must." She glanced down at Anakin and quickly took his lightsaber—deactivated—from his clenched fist and hooked it to her own belt.

Piett stared at her for a moment. "Sir?" A stormtrooper asked him warily.

Admiral Firmus Piett had served under Darth Vader since his graduation from the Imperial Military Academy. He had grown to appreciate the man—his efficiency, his sense of honor, duty, and self, and his bravery in the field, regardless of his ruthless methods.

And here, Vader lay in front of him, a human man with a wife begging Piett to help her husband. Her husband. A father. The man that lay in front of him could have been a simple soldier. And with that realization, Piett made a decision.

"Pick him up," he ordered sharply. "Gently. He probably has multiple fractures. "Take him to the medbay."

"No!" Padmé said quickly. "To the _Falcon_!"

Piett glanced at her. "Of course. I will lower the shields and give you five minutes to enter hyperspace before sending TIEs after you." Padmé stared at him and nodded, just as the storm troopers did as they were told and lifted up Anakin's body. "Quickly," Piett added, feeling oddly calm despite the fact that he was consciously and fully disobeying the orders that came from the Emperor himself.

"And Luke? Can you help him?" Padmé asked him desperately. "Luke, my son, Palpatine took him!"

"I'm sorry, ma'am, but this is all I can do," said Piett, and he was truly sorry as he accompanied Padmé to the boarding ramp. He turned to her. "Tell him," he began hesitantly, "That I was proud to serve under him. That I hope I died a death that would make him proud as one of his soldiers, and that I did all I could to help his family."

Padmé stared at him and what she had asked this Imperial officer to do finally sank in. "Thank you," she whispered.

He nodded. "My pleasure, Lady Vader."

She flinched. "Skywalker," she corrected quietly. "My husband's name is Anakin Skywalker. He is a Jedi Knight of the Old Republic."

If she registered the faint surprise in his eyes she said nothing. "Move quickly, Madam Skywalker," he told her a second later. "Farewell."

She bit her lip. "Thank you," she repeated at last, climbing the boarding ramp and watching Piett straighten his shoulders and call a calm mask over his features. Once onboard, she whipped around to see Chewie bending carefully over Anakin's limp body, pressing an oxygen mask to his face. "Chewie, what do you know about…?" Padmé asked hopefully. The wookiee roared mournfully and gently lifted the Jedi's gloved hands to lay at his side. His chest rose and fell shallowly. "I don't know that much about medicine, either," Padmé admitted. "My skills lay in politics, but it seems that Palpatine was far more skillful than I…" she trailed off and closed her eyes tightly.

Palpatine had Luke.

Despite her efforts to hold back her sobs, one escaped her and immediately Chewbacca enveloped her in a comforting hug. "He's my baby," Padmé whispered. "What if… What if Palpatine turns him? What if he turns into something horrible like Anakin did? I couldn't bear it, Chewie, I couldn't!"

The ship lurched as they rose into the air and Han emerged in the room, looking pale as he took Chewie's place. "How's he doin?'" he questioned Padmé uncomfortably as the older woman wiped away her tears.

"Not good," Padmé whispered. "He's still unconscious."

"He's not one for staying out of trouble, is he?" Han said quietly, moving past the former queen of Naboo to examine Anakin's motionless frame. "What do we do?"

"I don't know," Padmé said heavily. "Should we go back to Home One?"

"Without the fleet that he promised and short a Jedi?" Han asked quietly. "I dunno if they'd be so glad to help him out then. And plus, we don't know how long his body can hold out. Mustafar's a long way from Bain," he told Padmé.

"How do you know that it's that bad?" Padmé asked, horrified.

"I'm guessin' that those crates weren't exactly soft," said Han. "And he fell a long way."

Padmé went very pale. "Where can we go? The Falcon is recognizable, Han. Plus, you two both have bounties on your heads. What place do we know that is remote enough to hide from the Emperor and has what we need to heal him?"

Han sank into a chair. "I dunno," he admitted. "He had a lot of medical equipment on Bain," he offered.

"But the officer told us to go into hyperspace," said Padmé unhappily.

"That's our only option for now, your ladyship," said Han firmly. "I checked the coordinates. His fortress or whatever is located on the other side of the planet that's visible."

"But if they decide to do a planetary bombardment…"

Han slumped. "We've got to take that chance. "An oxygen mask isn't probably what he needs," he said, motioning to Anakin, who still lay limp on the cot.

Padmé bit her lip. "Then let's go. You know how to get in?"

Han nodded. "Luke told the Jedi droids last time not to hurt me, so…"

Padmé's eyes turned to her husband and she reached out for his hand, uncaring that it was cybernetic. She touched it to her cheek and released a shuddering breath. "Ani… Come back to me, Ani…"

--------

"Felt a great disturbance in the Force, I have," said Yoda as he sat in a tree, seemingly to no one. "In the hands of Sidious, young Skywalker now is."

"It's my fault," and anguished voice said, and the glowing form of Obi-Wan Kenobi glimmered brightly as he appeared over a branch. "Anakin could not fight him. He was trying so hard, but he couldn't breathe. It's all my fault."

"For despair and guilt, no place there is," Yoda chastised the dead Jedi. "Hope, we must, that young Skywalker does not Fall."

"But Anakin is the Chosen One," Obi-Wan said quietly. "And he almost died because of me today. Our hope for the Balance to be restored to the Force almost died with him, all because of me. He would have died if I hadn't helped him. If I hadn't left him to burn... Surely you can see this, Master Yoda!"

"See that Anakin has returned, I do," Yoda acknowledged, ignoring Obi-Wan's self-guilt. "Much fear in him still, but control it, he does now. No hate in him, no anger. Purpose."

"Does the rest of the Council see it that way?" Obi-Wan asked doubtfully. "Mace Windu seemed quite happy to condemn him."

"The first victim of Vader, Master Windu was," Yoda reminded Obi-Wan. "Told you, has he not?"

"Yes," Obi-Wan admitted.

"Meditate, I must," Yoda said at last.

"Very well, Master Yoda," he said, fading back into the Force. "I will do all I can."

------

"Chewie, get him," Han told the wookiee as they touched down. As promised, the _Executor_ had done nothing, and as soon as they left sight, they had assumed that they had gone into hyperspace rather than their intended destination to begin with.

"Gently," Padmé instructed brokenly as the enormous alien bent down and lifted Anakin's body.

"Quick," Han said impatiently as he went down the boarding ramp into the pouring rain. Padmé followed him and Threepio and Artoo came down after her, leaving Chewie last. They all moved as fast as they could after Han, who easily remembered where the entrance had been. As the sheer cliff face rose up in front of him, ebony black, Padmé hissed in surprise.

They all broke into a jog once in the hallway, Threepio calling out shouts of protest. "Oh, no…" Han murmured as they drew to the silver durasteel door that had no keypad. "Luke opened this with the Force," he muttered. "How do we get in?"

"No!" Padmé cried out. "We have to get in!" She looked to the corners of each door, searching for some kind of technology to open it, but there was nothing.

"Artoo says that he could plug into a jack," Threepio offered helpfully.

"There aren't any!" Padmé shouted, gesturing wildly to the corridor. She whipped around. "OBI-WAN!" she called out. "Open the door!"

There was nothing. "Lady Amidala…" Han began uncomfortably.

"OPEN THE DOOR!" she screamed.

It opened and she turned around, mouth agape. "I… How…?"

Han stared at her. "You can do it too?"

"No," said Padmé, bewildered. "I can't."

"Pad… Padmé…" It was the barest hint of a whisper.

She froze and then turned to Chewie. Anakin's arm was limp, having fallen from Chewie's grasp, but his eyes were half-open. "Opened it," he whispered.

Her eyes filled with tears. "Ani, are you okay?"

"Luke?" he rasped. "Where's Luke?"

Padmé choked back a sob. "Sidious."

Anakin closed his eyes. "No…"

"We should get inside," said Han. "The door did open."

Padmé grasped her husband's hand for a moment and then stepped aside to walk though the door. Her breath left her as she entered the grand room. "Where do we go?"

"Master Vader!"

They all looked up to see a protocol droid walking quickly towards him. "His medical facility has been prepared," the droid said. "We saw him on the security holo-cams."

"Then why didn't you open the door?" Padmé growled.

"It's not connected to any technology," the droid explained. "So that only Lord Vader or young Luke Vader can enter."

A muscle in Padmé's jaw twitched at the mention of her son's name, and at the fact that 'Vader' was tacked on the end. "Where is the medical facility?"

"Follow me," said the droid, turning and walked down the long hallway. Chewie strode past and Anakin, still only half-conscious, opened the door. "Place him on the table, please," said the droid as several others, including a 2-1B unit, emerged from the shadows. Padmé stared, horrified, at the hi-tech medcenter, at the Bacta tank and prosthetic station—the medical nightmare that was Anakin's life. No longer was he the handsome, healthy Jedi Knight of her memories. Chewie gently lowered Anakin's lengthy frame onto the operating table.

"Padmé…" he whispered, flinging out his arm. She clasped his hand and brought it to her chest.

"I'm here, my love," she told him quietly.

"Increasing oxygen pressurization in ten seconds," said a droid calmly.

"No," said Anakin firmly, wincing in pain as he adjusted his position on the table. "I want her to stay."

"Master Vader—"

"I'll leave, Ani," said Padmé. "I just want you to be taken care of."

"Cutie," he called hoarsely. "Adjust the doors to be opened manually."

"Yes, Master Vader," said the silver protocol droid at once.

"Padmé… Go to the third room on the right," he whispered. "Promise."

She nodded, mystified. "I will."

"I love you."

"I know," she returned with a small smile. She bent down and kissed his forehead. "I'll be back soon, Anakin."

He nodded and then relaxed, closing his eyes. Padmé, Han and Chewie stepped back and left the room, the silver door closing behind them. Padmé let out a heavy sigh and Chewie enveloped her in a hug. Han hung back uncomfortably. "I should comm Home One and let them know what happened," he said finally.

Padmé nodded wordlessly. "That's fine."

"Are you gonna be alright?" Han asked nervously.

Padmé shrugged. "I don't know."

"We can order some food from Cutie," Han told her. "Let's do that. When was the last time you ate?"

"I don't know," she repeated heavily, turning to go to the third door on the right. What was there that Anakin wanted her to see? What could possibly have any meaning for her from his life as Vader?

"Where are you goin'?"

Padmé palmed the door open and her mouth dropped open in shock.

Naboo.

She stepped inside the room as if entering a holy shrine. It was as though she was entering the Lake Country—Varykino, the place that she and Anakin had been married. On the floor, there were platforms that she supposed were for meditation, though what Luke had told her—that he spent nights in his meditation pod—indicated that he had never used the room. Tears sprung to her eyes and she sat down, staring at her beautiful home that Palpatine had ravaged. In the distance, though it was incorrect, Theed rose above waterfalls and mountains. On the furthest wall, grazing shaaks stood in a field and, so small she barely noticed, were two people painted lying in the grass.

Hardly daring to believe, she moved closer and saw that one of the figures was a blond-haired young man dressed in black Jedi robes and the other was a curly-haired woman in a dress, held in his arms. They both were smiling.

She sank back onto the platform. Things had progressed so quickly from that time… The Republic had begun to grow corrupt, yes, and the Jedi would soon start losing numbers once the Clone Wars began, but to see herself and Anakin, whole and unblemished and happy, was almost more than her heart could bear.

She didn't know how long she sat there, staring at the beautiful mural, but when the door opened behind her, she expected it to be Han, not the light caress of the Force that was her husband. "Anakin, you shouldn't be up," she scolded, turning to face her husband.

She froze. He wasn't wearing the helmet or mask, but the reality of seeing Anakin within the suit, complete with the armor and life-support control panel, shocked her. "You have been here for almost three hours," he told her gently, and she saw that he carried an oxygen case instead of wearing the mask. She recognized the fleeting expression of slight hurt at her startled gasp at his appearance, and felt a stab of guilt.

"How are you feeling?" she asked softly.

"I'm fine. No fractures, just bruising. Have you been here the entire time?"

"I hadn't realized that I was here for so long," she told him, moving over on the platform as indication for him to sit beside her. He did so, the robes gracefully falling about him in elegant folds. "It's beautiful, Ani. Did you come here often?"

"No," he told her quietly. "It pained me to remember. Anytime I even thought of Naboo… I remembered that it was my fault that you were dead. That I had killed you."

She frowned and leaned on his shoulder, reaching out to take his gloved hand. "Would it have changed things, if he hadn't lied to you?"

He sat silent for a moment. "You would have hated what I became," he said finally. "I would not have been able to face you."

"When did you heal?" she questioned, glancing up to his face.

"It was about eight months after the duel that I had healed fully," he told her softly. "Three weeks before Palpatine deemed that I was functional, and sent me out to hunt the Jedi."

"Three weeks?" she said in surprise.

He said nothing at her wince. "You should eat something," he said at last.

"All right," she said quietly, accepting his help to stand and feeling dwarfed by his impressive height. She didn't remember him being so tall.

"Palpatine added two inches to my legs," he told her, inferring her train of thought. "To make me more imposing."

"It worked," she told him weakly, her head coming to his chest plate. "I hate it, Ani," she told him firmly, staring at the control panel and the one flashing light. The others were dull. "I hate it."

"I know."

"Why must you wear it? Can't something be done?" she asked desperately. "Like Mothma said, you could receive cloned lungs!"

He frowned. "Padmé, you don't understand everything," he told her gently. "Trust me. It isn't just my lungs that are the problem."

She bit her lip. Then teach me this," she said, tapping her finger on the box.

"Padmé… I don't think…" he protested, moving away from her.

"Anakin," she said firmly, crossing her arms. "If something happens to you, I need to know how to fix it."

His eyes drooped. "All right," he told her, taking her hand. "I was going to put the mask on in my chambers, but I'll show you what to do." He led her out of the room and down the hallway once more. He sensed her discomfort as they entered the medical facilities that were his rooms but said nothing and just walked to the table where Vader's mask and helmet lay.

Padmé bit her lip. "I… isn't there something else you can wear?" she asked hopefully.

He glanced at her. "Not on such short notice." Her face fell. "Padmé, I'll do it," he said finally. "You don't have to. Don't worry."

"No," she said at once, reaching over and picking up the durasteel mask with trembling fingers. She stared at it for a moment, at the opaque eye lenses, the triangular intake vent. She swallowed, and he sat down.

"It has to be done quickly," he told her finally. "There are clasps on the rim of the mask that will seal to the suit," he told her, lifting a finger and running it along the edge to show her where the seals were. "The helmet completes the sealing process," he explained, lifting it and turning it around so that she could see the rounded portion that corresponded with the mask. "It sits low, just above the view-screens and covers the sides of the mask."

"I understand," she said, dry-mouthed. She held it up, halfway to his face, and then dropped her arms, tears stinging her eyes. "I don't want you to wear it," she whispered, biting her lip. She set the mask down on the table and turning back to face him. "I want to see your face," she told him, lifting up her hand to lovingly touch his cheek. He closed his eyes and let out a soft breath. "I love everything, Ani," she told him, tracing his scars. She leaned forward, and before he could react, pressed her lips to his, despite the breathing apparatus and vocoder at his chin. He gasped against her lips and his eyes flew open in surprise before he settled into the kiss. Reluctantly, she pulled away. "We should hurry," she told him sadly.

He nodded, still surprised, and took her hand in his. He lifted it to his lips and kissed it. "For when I can't," he said softly.

She bit back tears and lifted the mask once more to his face. Taking a deep breath, she reached forward and removed the oxygen tubes from his nose and set them on the table. She lifted the mask upwards and set it over the vocoder and breathing apparatus, hearing the clicks and hiss of pressurized air as the mask became part of the suit. She reached for the helmet next, lifting it over his head. She hesitated, and then drew her fingers across his scalp as a last caress. He started, and she smiled before setting the helmet into place. She waited a second, and then the respirator drew in a breath. She frowned, recognizing the breathing as he exhaled. "Thank you," he said, and she jumped at the too-deep mechanized voice.

"You're welcome, Ani," she said in a troubled tone as she stared into the lenses, behind which, her beloved's eyes watched her.

"The control panel," he began. "The flashing white light is my heartbeat," he told her, and she directed her attention to it. "The two buttons beside it are for manual override. If something happens that it's too slow or too fast, you can speed it up or slow it down until the light flashes red. That's when it's dangerous," he told her.

She nodded to show that she understood. "The three other lights—green, red, and white—are for my respiration. They should always be solid," he told her. "If the green one starts flashing, then the respiration rate needs to be increased manually. If the red one starts flashing, then it needs to be slowed. If the white one flashes, then the system is failing and my body isn't getting enough oxygen."

"What do I do if that happens?" Padmé managed weakly.

"There is nothing that can be done, save to get the mask off," he told her seriously. "If any of the buttons are pressed accidentally, the system thinks that I've decided to handle it all manually and waits for commands. There are two switches on the side," he said, lifting his finger to touch the right-hand side of the control box. "The top one is to permanently—at least, until the system is shut down—control my respiration and pulse manually. The bottom one is what you switch if some buttons are pressed accidentally. Do you understand?"

She nodded.

"The fourth light are my neural patterns," he continued. "But you don't need to know anything about that. The same with the belt attachments."

"And that's all?"

"Yes." And with that, they both stood and looked at each other for a moment, the mechanized breathing going all the while. "It's still me, Padmé," he told her finally, as reassuringly as his mechanically modulated voice could portray. "I'm still here."

"I know," she said, forcing a smile to look at him before her gaze clouded over. He looked at her, motionless, until she turned away. "I should get something to eat. You were right."

"Come with me," he commanded, taking her arm.

She flinched and he pulled away immediately. Even with the mask, she could tell that she had hurt him and her eyes filled with tears. "Anakin," she whispered, moving to him and placing her head on his shoulder and her arms around the small of his back. "I love you, I do."

He rested his arms around her waist. "I hate it when you cry," he said finally. "I love you, Padmé, and even though I don't understand it, I know that you love me. I'm just sorry that I became Vader, that I'm the reason you hate this suit." She didn't reply, just closed her eyes tightly. "We don't have much time, my love," he said at last, and she disentangled herself from him and he wiped her cheeks with the pad of his gloved thumb.

"You're right," she said. "What are we going to do?"

"You're going to get some food before we do anything," he said firmly. "And then we will go from there." He took her arm and led her out into the hallway.

"Where are Han and Chewie?" Padmé asked curiously. "They seem to know their way around."

The helmet tilted toward her. "They came here with Luke before traveling to Palpatine's palace to rescue me," he explained. "They're in Luke's room."

"Luke's room?" Padmé asked eagerly. "Where?"

Anakin lifted a finger and pointed towards one of the doors, which opened. Padmé flew inside and stared at her son's room that he had used only for a short time. She bit her lip, ignoring Han and Chewie, who sat at his table eating.

She walked to his bed and sat down, almost reverently. She reached out a hand and touched the pillow, on which there was still an indentation of his head.

Her beautiful boy, her darling son.

Taken from her once, when he was just an infant, and again now—taken from her by the same monster that had taken her husband and transformed him into the creature that she had loathed for the majority of her adult life.

Her breath caught in a sob and she buried her face in her hands. Why had this happened? Why had Luke been taken from them? Could not Anakin have done something more? Could Han and Chewie and somehow overrode Anakin's Force control of the _Falcon _and saved him?

Anakin _could _have done something, she realized. HE could have stayed in the Light those years ago and he would have remained whole—he could have defeated Palpatine, if not for his own weaknesses.

The revelation caused her to sob anew. "Padmé?" The deep voice was Vader's, the menacing breathing was Vader's. Vader, the monster who had destroyed her husband for so long. Padmé looked up tearfully. "This is your fault!" she shouted at him, uncaring that her words were likely hurting him. "If you had just believed me and Obi-Wan, this wouldn't have happened! If you hadn't idolized that—_that_ creature because he nurtured your ego, Luke would be with us, and Palpatine dead!"

It was completely silent in the room except for Vader's mechanized breaths. He stood stock-still, and Han and Chewie both stared, openmouthed, at the two figures. "Padmé, you're right, but—"

"I don't want to hear it, Vader," Padmé said, tears streaming down her face. "I don't want to hear excuses."

After a moment, Vader turned jerkily around and left the room and the tension slowly decreased. Padmé sunk onto the bed and stared at her feet. "What have I done?" she whispered, more to herself than to Han or Chewie.

"Lady," said Han uncomfortably, moving over to her. "You gotta eat something. Food'll make ya feel better."

Wearily, she accepted a glass of some beverage and a piece of bread. "Thank you, Han," she said quietly.

---------

Vader unthinkingly stalked to his training room, his lightsaber somehow finding its way into his hand. He was reeling from Padmé's accusations—They hurt, her words, but what hurt more is that they were true.

If not for his weakness, Luke would be here with them. He would not have seen his aunt and uncle murdered before his eyes, he would not have met the Emperor, and he would not have begun a path to the Dark Side the day that he killed a trainee in a fit of loyalty-provoked anger. If not for his weakness, Leia would not have seen her father killed and would not have been tortured. If not for his weakness, Padmé would be living like the queen she was with her family at her side, not running like a hunted fugitive. If not for his weakness, those he loved would be alive. His family would be whole and unhurt. The Jedi Order would be thriving. Obi-Wan would be with him, probably training Luke as his padawan.

Everything was his fault. Luke's soul was in jeopardy because he hadn't _been strong enough_.

With a cry of rage that was distorted through the mask, he activated all of the dueling droids in the corner of his room and let loose. His saber whirled in complicated patterns and his frustration and not being flexible enough to perform some of the more difficult forms fed his self-loathing.

If not for his stupidity, he wouldn't be an inhuman monster, a sickening blend of man and machine that went against all rules of nature. If not for his failures…

Behind his mask, he shut his eyes tightly, relying on the Force to show him what he needed to do. The energy flowed through him, giving him speed and almost precognition for where the droids would strike.

_Padmé hated him_.

The words echoed in his mind, taunting him. For all her claims to the contrary, she hated him. And she had good reason. He hated _himself. _The only person who didn't hate him was now in the clutches of his worst enemy, at the mercy of one who wanted to turn him into a soulless monster like Vader.

He wasn't sure how long it took, but finally there was no more threat from the droids and he stood still, saber still activated, his respirator working double-time to keep up with his body's oxygen demands. He stared at himself, the mask and helmet, the lights on the control panel blinking. With a growl, he threw his saber with all his might at the mirror in front of him and the metal hilt shattered one panel and fell to the ground. It wasn't enough. His reflection still looked back him from the rest of the mirrors. He lifted his arms and all the droid wreckage rose into the air. In an instant, the pieces of half-melted metal and destroyed circuitry crashed into the walls, smashing the mirrors and sending the fragments to the ground.

It wasn't enough. It never was.

"Anakin," said a reproving voice, gentle and admonishing at the same time.

He stiffened and turned slowly around to see the shimmering figure of Obi-Wan looking at him. He appeared just as he had the day on Mustafar. "Master," Anakin managed, dry-mouthed. "I…"

"You are allowing your anger to overcome you, Padawan," said Obi-Wan softly. "Do not let Padmé's words—which were said in anguish—crumble what you have already fought to create within yourself."

He sank to the ground. "Master, I deserve it," he said miserably. "She's right. And she hates me."

"She doesn't, dear friend," said Obi-Wan. "But right now she is warring with herself. On one hand, she has her beloved Anakin and in the other she has Darth Vader. She wants, desperately, to think that they are two separate people. The physical reality will be a struggle for her."

"Yeah, and everyone else," said Anakin bitterly.

"I have been trying to convince the Council to heal you, Anakin, but thus far my success has been limited," said Obi-Wan hesitantly. "I am sorry."

"You helped me, didn't you?" he said in sudden understanding. "I'd almost forgotten. When I was fighting Palpatine."

"Yes," the man acknowledged sorrowfully. "I'm sorry," he repeated.

"Don't be. I killed you, remember?" Anakin managed in a weak attempt at humor. He turned serious. "Obi-Wan, I wish that I hadn't, more than anything. You were my father and my brother," he said. "And I hunted you like an animal." The self-disgust was evident even through the vocoder. "I'm so sorry, Master."

Obi-Wan said nothing for a few moments. "You need to focus on the here and now, Padawan," he said, smiling a little. "I will have plenty of time to berate you for your foolishness when you join me in the Force."

Behind the mask, Anakin smiled a little and knew that Obi-Wan could sense his amusement through the Force. "I love you, old man," he said quietly.

"I know," Obi-Wan said gently. "Release your anger and self-hate, Anakin. Those emotions will do nothing except tempt you with the Dark Side. Focus on the positive. Padmé is hurting and she will say things that will hurt you in return, but do not allow yourself to lose control of yourself. You must tread the path of the Light, my dear apprentice, and to do so you must let the Force take away your anger and pain. You _must _forgive yourself. You have done horrible things, yes, but this is your chance to right some of those wrongs. You can only do so if you are centered and calm. Do you understand me?"

Anakin nodded silently and slowly stood, calling his saber to his hand and hooking it to his belt. "Thank you, Master."

"Until next time, Anakin," said Obi-Wan, a smile on his face. He faded away and Anakin bowed his head. What he wouldn't give to have Obi-Wan at his side, fighting with him. A single tear blurred his vision before he harshly repressed his emotions. He had to focus on the here and now, he reminded himself. What's done is done. Losing himself in the regulated pattern of his breathing for a moment, he calmed himself, wrapping the Force around himself in a shroud of Light, pulling it to him as closely as he had the Dark. He reached inside himself for the core within him that was his love for Luke and Padmé, and Leia if she would ever allow him—for Obi-Wan, and his mother. He collected all his guilt and anger and let it pour out of him, the Force eagerly taking it away and leaving him in peace.

There is no emotion; only peace.

"Anakin?" The voice was hesitant and afraid.

He turned slowly to see his beloved wife standing at the entrance of the door, Han and Chewie behind her, both with aghast expressions. Padmé's face was pale and her mouth slightly open in disbelief at the destruction that he and wrought.

"Padmé," he greeted her, reaching out with the Force to brush lightly against her mind, to let her know how much he loved her. She gave a little gasp.

"Ani, I'm sorry," she managed finally, her eyes still wandering over the complete devastation that was the room.

"Don't be, Padmé," he told her calmly. "You were right. I only let my emotions get the better of me. It will not happen again."

"An' I thought wookiees had anger management problems," Han muttered as he stared at the room, earning a light cuff and growl from Chewie. "No wonder everybody was so scared at you back on Mustafar," he said, addressing Anakin. "If this is what you do if you get pissed off, remind me again not to get on your bad side."

"Funny, Solo," Anakin said dryly.

"Are you all right, Ani?" Padmé asked worriedly.

The helmet tilted towards her for a moment. "Yes," he said finally. "As usual, Obi-Wan had to knock some sense into me," he said, smiling ruefully before realizing that they couldn't see it. With a silent curse, he projected his emotions for Padmé to feel, and she smiled gently before moving forward to take his arm.

"What's the plan, then?"

"We are going to rendezvous with my destroyers," said Anakin. "And then…" he hesitated. "I'm not sure."

* * *

Sorry for the wait, but school, clubs, swim team, and work are keeping me busy. Actually, busy is kind of an understatement.

--Ar-Zimraphel


	24. Darth Sidious

After a few months of silence, I have finally returned!

- And for those of you who joined the list after my disappearance, I will fill you in: My name is Kellen (Ar-Zimraphel on most sites, including and I am the author of _Another Route_. (Yes, that one story that hasn't been updated for eons)

Sorry about that. Unfortunately, it was unavoidable for many reasons, but now that a few of my extracurricular activities are done for the year, I have more time (and enough sleep) to attempt to continue on in my 'lil plot bunny that grew into a gigantic, super-sized rabbit. Like the Easter Bunny, only bigger.

Anyway, an update: I have written chapters 24, 25, and most of 26 and I have a plan that I'm excited to write. Good news!

So, today marks the beginning of the return of _Another Route_. And to get the old juices flowing, here is the link to Chapter 23 of AR, and also a little summary to help you remember. As I recall, it was a particularly annoying cliffhanger. smiles

**SUMMARY:** Luke was captured by the Emperor when Anakin was helpless w/out his suit. Han, Padmé, Chewie and an unconscious Anakin managed to escape the _Executor _to Bain, Anakin's private world, where he was patched up and reinstated in the suit. (Finally!) Padmé and Anakin also had a nice emotional epiphany (at least Padmé did) and Anakin made another step closer to the Light Side by overcoming the pull of anger with a ghostly Obi-Wan's help. The chapter leaves off with the company heading off to Anakin's private star destroyers.

_He_ Anakin_ turned slowly to see his beloved wife standing at the entrance of the door, Han and Chewie behind her, both with aghast expressions. Padmé's face was pale and her mouth slightly open in disbelief at the destruction _he destroyed a training room in a fit of rage. Sound like Ani much?_ that he had wrought._

_"Padmé," he greeted her, reaching out with the Force to brush lightly against her mind, to let her know how much he loved her. She gave a little gasp. _

_"Ani, I'm sorry," she managed finally, her eyes still wandering over the complete devastation that was the room. _

_"Don't be, Padmé," he told her calmly. "You were right. I only let my emotions get the better of me. It will not happen again."_

_"An' I thought wookiees had anger management problems," Han muttered as he stared at the room, earning a light cuff and growl from Chewie. "No wonder everybody was so scared at you back on Mustafar," he said, addressing Anakin. "If this is what you do if you get pissed off, remind me again not to get on your bad side."_

_"Funny, Solo," Anakin said dryly. _

_"Are you all right, Ani?" Padmé asked worriedly._

_The helmet tilted towards her for a moment. "Yes," he said finally. "As usual, Obi-Wan had to knock some sense into me," he said, smiling ruefully before realizing that they couldn't see it. With a silent curse, he projected his emotions for Padmé to feel, and she smiled gently before moving forward to take his arm._

_"What's the plan, then?"_

_"We are going to rendezvous with my destroyers," said Anakin. "And then…" he hesitated. "I'm not sure."_

And with no further adieu…

CHAPTER 24

Of

_Another Route_

Oh, and just to let you know – I HATE this chapter w/ a passion and I still am unhappy with how it turned out. Just to give you a head's up.

When Luke woke, he was lying on the obsidian floor of a darkened room.

"So, my young apprentice," said a croak of a voice, in a mock conversational tone. "I have you at last."

"You have nothing," Luke said, making his voice as calm as he could manage. He peered through the darkness to see the dais on which Palpatine—no longer flanked by his guards—looked down at him. Instinctively, he reached out for his father, but felt nothing. His heart resonated with fear—where was he? Since he was thirteen, he had been able to feel his father's comforting presence at the edges of his mind, but now there was some kind of durasteel curtain that blocked his senses. Or had Anakin's presence in the Force disappeared? The thought terrified him. Was his father dead? Had the Emperor killed him while he lay unconscious? What of his mother, and Han, and Chewie? What had happened to them? Uncomfortable on his knees and with his arms bound behind his back by some type of binder that he couldn't release with the Force, Luke tried to adjust his position, but to no avail.

Palpatine let out a laugh. "Quite the contrary one, my stubborn little apprentice," he said, his voice echoing inside the chamber. "I have gained everything. Not to worry, son of Skywalker. You will soon realize that your petty Jedi ruminations are naught compared to the might of the Dark Side."

"The Dark Side is no more powerful than the Light," Luke said forcefully, Yoda's explanation echoing in his head.

"The Light Side?" Palpatine scoffed. "The weak side. Your _father _thought to his useless Jedi teachings of the Force against me, and he was destroyed as easily as I could now destroy you."

Bile rose up in Luke's throat.

No.

It couldn't be! His father couldn't be dead! If the Jedi were right, his father was the Chosen One—the one to defeat the Sith! Sidious was lying, he had to be!

Still, a thorn of doubt had burrowed into his heart and lay there, silent as an assassin waiting to strike. If Palpatine had killed his father… If his father had died, simply because the Emperor wanted Luke… Luke harshly suppressed the shudder that the thought produced and exercised one of the calming techniques that Yoda had taught him to as to quell his sudden nausea. "You're lying," he managed finally, several minutes after the Sith Master's words.

"No," Palpatine hissed. "Skywalker is dead, and he paid many times over for his treachery against me—for his audacity to think that he could deceive me. I have known for several years that you still lived, young Skywalker, and I watched as your pathetic sire believed himself safe. The lightning that snapped his last, pathetic connection to life—the connection _I_ gave him—was _particularly_ satisfying, as I recall."

"YOU'RE LYING!" Luke shouted before he could stop himself. A small ball of fear knotted his stomach. Palpatine was a master of deception—he had to be lying! This was only a ploy to provoke anger and hate!

"Am I?" Sidious questioned, removing from somewhere in his robes the familiar shape of a lightsaber. "He dropped this Jedi weapon the instant I struck him," Palpatine revealed. "Completely useless."

Luke froze as Palpatine allowed the lightsaber—the lightsaber Luke had seen nearly every day during training sessions—to fall from his fingers to clatter down the steps of the raised dais. His father's words echoed in his head.

_A Jedi's lightsaber—the one that he builds—is an extension of his arm, of his will, and is part of the Jedi's connection with the Force_.

Surely his father would never have relinquished his weapon so easily? That, coupled with that fact that Luke could not feel his father's presence in the Force…

"No," he whispered, hanging his head, all of the defiance seeping out of him. His father was dead—after everything that had happened… His return to the light, his reunion with Padmé, Luke, and Leia… He couldn't be dead! "I don't believe you."

"You truly are an orphan now, Skywalker," Palpatine continued ruthlessly, delighted at Luke's acceptance of his claims. "Your lovely mother ran at once after him, and got herself shot by my men. I did not waste my time as I once might have with Padmé Amidala."

_NO!_

Hot, boiling rage leapt up in Luke's heart at Palpatine's words.

His father, dead.

The mother that he had only begun to know, dead.

All because of the subtle manipulations, the disgusting plots, and complete evil of the monster that sat before him, swathed in robes. His father was dead. His mother was dead. Not of his own volition, Luke suddenly found the binders released and he stood, his anger and pain completely clouding his sense of awareness. Palpatine had murdered his parents! Murdered them, after all that they had been through to get together again, to fight the Darkness!

"Strike me down, Skywalker," Palpatine taunted, the lightsaber flying to Luke's hand. The Jedi took it automatically. "I am unarmed. Defenseless."

A small voice made it past the red veil that was Luke's fury. _Attack, a Jedi must not. A path to the Dark Side, aggression is. Defend always, a Jedi must._

The calm advice of his Master cleared away the haze like the mist on Dagobah and Luke let out a ragged breath. Without thinking, he flung the lightsaber away from himself. "I will not turn," he told the Emperor, repressing the pain for a moment.

_His father_…

"It is the Dark Side where your Destiny lies," Palpatine croaked. "I have foreseen it. You will become the most powerful Sith since Darth Bane. You will have the Galaxy at your feet, the most unimaginable power at your fingertips… You _will_ join me, Skywalker."

"Never," Luke spat automatically. "I am a Jedi, like my father before me."

"A Jedi," Palpatine spat. "You are no Jedi. The anger runs strong in you… It is pure… I can feel it, no matter how hard your try to seek the _Jedi calm_." His tone was mocking, but at the same time, he talked of Jedi matters as though they burned him. "Your father, also, had rage, even as a Jedi Knight," he continued, and Luke lost his control.

"DON'T TALK ABOUT MY FATHER!" Luke screamed, the dams in his mind cracking and the emotions flooding his mind. His father dead dead dead dead all because of him all because of him

_Father, Father, where are you? Help me, help me! Tell me you're alive!_

At once the lightsaber was back in his hands and Luke stalked towards the chair in which the Emperor sat, raising it above his head—

And then he was flying back through the air, in agony as Dark tendrils of energy clawed their way into his body, attacking the light within him and his body at the same time. This—this was _worse _than his dreams of Mustafar, and later the operating table on which Darth Vader was created.

He called out desperately, trying to fight back the pain, _Father, Father, are you alive? Obi-Wan, help me! I can't… can't… can't… can't…_

Until at last, he fell into blissful darkness.

And he was jerked back to consciousness, his face screaming in pain. The Emperor's hooded visage was close to his face, and Luke could smell his vile breath, the man's claws clutching his face. "My apprentice," the Emperor snarled, his nails digging into Luke's scalp, burning trails of white-hot pain down, across his forehead, cheeks, and over his nose. Blood dripped from his face onto the floor and Luke was powerless to resist, held in place with the Force. "My apprentice," Palpatine repeated, digging in with his fingers deeper still. Luke fought past the Force bonds on him and let out a terrible scream as the Emperor's nails dug into his eyes. All went black. "My _apprentice_."

Luke groaned as blinding lights burst into being above him, shaking him from his sleep. And then it all rushed back to him—their apprehension on the _Executor_, his confrontation with the Emperor…

His parents' death.

The thought brought a sickening lurch to his stomach and Luke flung himself over the surprisingly soft surface on which he found himself, gasping in surprise as his muscles spasmed in protest. What…?

The lightning. It came back to him quickly, the agonizing pains that the Dark energy produced as it flowed through him… Luke repressed another bout of nausea and started crawling towards a white door in the white room, hoping that it was a 'fresher. What had Palpatine done with him? What had he been doing, at the end, with his hands? Luke hesitantly lifted his hand to his face and froze in shock as he felt hard ridges and divets in his skin… scar tissue. What had happened?

With newfound adrenaline in the face of his panic, Luke dove for the 'fresher door and stood, shakily in front of the mirror.

It was not his face that stared back at him.

This face—it was pale and had horrible, gaping scars that tore rents across its skin—marring the features so that its lips were twisted and cheeks warped. It had no hair, and more scars tore over its bare scalp, running like a tortuous river through a canyon.

Luke thought he was going to be sick. He lifted trembling hand to touch it and blanched when he felt fingertips touch his cheek. What had the Emperor done to him? In a horrified daze, he stumbled back to the room just the door slid open and the familiar figure of the hooded Emperor stepped inside. Hatred reared its ugly head before Luke even realized it. "Get away from me!" He snarled, his voice a rasp, throat sore and savaged from his screams.

"Lord Rexus?" the Emperor's voice was strangely concerned. "What is the matter? Surely you're not that upset over your defeat yesterday. I am much more experienced with a lightsaber, after all."

——

The three destroyers were an impressive sight. Like the _Executor_, they were coal-black and retained the arrowhead shape, but they were slimmer and had curves rather than the straight lines of the standard Imperial destroyer. They were sleek and deadly, and as Vader he had been immensely proud of them. There were some things that didn't change, Anakin supposed as they docked in the main cargo bay of the command ship.

"You _designed _them?" Han asked in disbelief, having overcome his apprehension of the mask and suit that hid Anakin's features from him.

Anakin nodded, smiling behind the mask. "Yes. They have enough firepower to do some damage, trust me."

"I believe it," Han said weakly as Padmé emerged from the 'fresher, dressed in Rebel fatigues. She threw Anakin a timid smile, which he returned with the Force.

"What's the plan?" she asked curiously once he stood, dwarfing the lounge.

"We make corporeal contact with my officers," he said.

Padmé narrowed her eyes. "Corporeal contact?"

"Yes. While at Bain I commed the admiral of my fleet and had him begin the process of moving the specialized fighters from the holds."

"You mean those ships are going into battle?" Han gaped. "But some of them, they're invaluable!"

"Not those," said Anakin was a slight laugh at was distorted through the mask. "You underestimate both my interest as a military commander and as a pilot, Captain Solo. I have squadrons of Advanced TIE fighters and modified Naboo starfighters prepared. I would not send those other ships into battle by any means."

Han let out a sigh of relief. "Good thing. I'd hate to see those babies damaged," he said truthfully.

"Spoken as a true pilot," Anakin remarked, turning to his wife. "Are you ready?"

She nodded, taking his arm. "Let's go. The sooner we do this, the sooner we get Luke back." Gone was the tired, frail-looking woman in her mid-forties. The Padmé who Anakin remembered fighting her way out of any arena, both political and the actual gladiatorial arena in which they had once found themselves (because of her, he recalled fondly), had returned. She had even found a spare blaster and had placed it into the holster. Her hair—dark brown with only a few strands of gray—was pulled back in a severe braid.

They stepped down the boarding ramp and Chewie roared his surprise at the rows of soldiers in solid-black armor that formed a lane from the base of the boarding ramp to the exit of the hangar. "My men," Anakin explained calmly.

Han looked more closely and found that, unlike the Empire, Darth Vader's private army was one that was multi-species. Granted, they were all humanoids, but it seemed that Vader did not have the prejudice against non-humans that plagued the Empire. He grinned to himself.

"I grew up in the company of mostly non-humans," said Anakin quietly. "And then later, in the Jedi Temple, species was considered unimportant. While Palpatine had his clear preferences, I was not of like mind."

Chewie roared his happiness as they approached three men—two human, one Chiss— wearing the rank insignia of admiral on otherwise plain black uniforms. "Lord Vader," said the first smoothly, walking forward.

Anakin inclined his head slightly at the Chiss. "Admiral Thrawn. Thank you for your efficiency." He turned to his company. "Admiral Thrawn is Grand Admiral of my fleet," he explained to Han and Padmé's dumbstricken faces. "This is Admiral Jin Vaskall and Admiral Di'in Lij."

The two humans bowed to Padmé, Han, and Chewie respectfully. The first was a tall man with closely cropped gray hair and a hard, unforgiving face. While at first glance the second had been human, upon closer inspection it was clear that he had features that marked him as some type of humanoid cross. From Anakin's body language, it was clear that he held these men in high esteem. Their confident manner also seemed to indicate both their mutual respect for Vader and their utter lack of fear for the permanent discharge that Imperial officers dreaded.

"Lady Amidala of the Naboo," Anakin then said, introducing his wife to his men. "My wife. This is Captain Han Solo of Corellia and Chewbacca of Kashyyyk."

The three men looked unsurprised at his pronouncement. "Lord Vader, a briefing room has been prepared," said Thrawn calmly. "We are prepared to jump into hyperspace at any moment."

"And is my Intelligence Commander on board?" Anakin inquired, not bothering to correct his title despite his wife's dislike of it. It would only serve to remind her that Vader and Anakin were the same person.

"He is," said Thrawn, not bothering with the incessant 'milords' that his Imperial officers favored.

"Excellent," said Anakin, pleased. "We are engaged in war with the Empire, Admiral," he said. Thrawn raised his brow in slight surprise.

"For what reason, if I may ask?"

"The Emperor has overstepped his bounds, and I have come to realize some errors in judgement," Anakin admitted. "And while the Rebel Alliance understandably did not believe me to be sincere, we are Rebels nonetheless. Should you desire to leave my command, you are free to do so."

Han gaped at him.

"Not at present," said Thrawn lightly, while the human—Jin Vaskall—let out a laugh.

"If you have found a reason to defect, Lord Vader, you can be assured that every being on any of these ships will follow you," he said easily.

"I am glad to hear it," Anakin said, turning to face his three companions. "If you will come with us," he said to them before turning and walking with his three admirals to the exit of the room.

Padmé, Han, and Chewie exchanged bewildered glances and followed them to a large room with a long table and chairs, clearly the briefing room. Seated at the table were three more of Anakin's employees.

Vaskall and Lij sat down and Anakin immediately pulled a chair back for his wife. She sat down, a little wary of the situation. Han leaned against the wall, arms crossed and Chewie beside him. Thrawn and Anakin remained standing. "We heard you went AWOL and got worried for a while," said one of the unfamiliar men—a Zabrak with violent blue markings on his face and a crown of horns. "Welcome back, Lord Vader."

"Thank you, Sahid," said Anakin, folding his arms. Again he introduced his wife, Han and Chewie to the other men. "We have important business to discuss," he began, explaining the situation to the men. Once he had finished, he said, "But first we must leave orbit of Bain. The _Executor _is in orbit at the moment, with Emperor Palpatine aboard."

"Where should we go, Lord Vader?" questioned Vaskall. "I would recommend the Rebel Base, but we don't have the coordinates."

"I am sure Admiral Thrawn has discovered the location of the Rebel Base," said Anakin smoothly.

"The Mustafar system, the first planet," said Thawn swiftly. Han stared at him.

"How'd you…?" he asked weakly.

"Admiral Thrawn is a master tactician," Anakin replied. "Had he commanded the Imperial Navy, the Rebellion would have been long since crushed," he admitted. Padmé stared at her husband, wondering at the uncharacteristic humility, before he continued, "We will go there, but do not exit hyperspace until we have made contact with Leia Organa." Beside him, Padmé flinched.

"Already done," Thrawn said calmly. "We will shortly jump to hyperspace." Indeed, just a few seconds after his proclamation, they all felt the familiar shudder that indicated they had moved into super-speed.

"Good." Anakin turned to the man who sat next to Sahid. "Tevin. You are to alert all of your men. They are to begin the rumor that the Emperor betrayed me and killed my son. For that reason I defected to the Rebel Alliance. This must be done as quickly as possible."

The black-haired, heavily tanned man nodded once. "And… Lord Vader, is that the case?"

"No. Luke is still alive, but in Palpatine's clutches," said Anakin. Padmé shut her eyes tightly. "I was unable to prevent his capture."

"That is bad news," said Vaskall, frowning.

"Indeed."

"Lord Vader, I have a suggestion," said Tevin, brow furrowed. He didn't wait for Anakin's acknowledgement. "I am going to give my men different versions of the story," he told him. "But all with the theme of your betrayal. Thus, all the rumors will achieve some kind of congruence that will lead to their being perceived as fact."

"Excellent," said Anakin said. "Sahid." The Zabrak snapped to attention. "Inform your operatives that they are now on active duty. I want them to report daily."

"Yes, of course," said Sahid.

Anakin turned to the last person seated—a Twi'lek female of a magenta color. "Re'eyan. The same goes for you."

"Including from Jabba?" she questioned, twirling her left lekku around her index finger.

"Yes. I suspect that the Empire will soon extend a hand to Jabba and the other Hutts. If that is the case, you will eliminate them. Once the Empire's natural allies are disposed of, it will be weakened."

"Silently or not?" Re'eyan asked next, her eyes gleaming.

"Not," Anakin replied coldly. "The Emperor must know that it was no petty uprising of slaves. I want the news of the Hutts' deaths to reach the Emperor's ears simultaneously."

"Understood," she said.

"That is the end of Part One, then?" Thrawn questioned.

Anakin turned to the blue-skinned humanoid. "Indeed," he said. "Though we are doing so with considerably more allies than I had first anticipated." He returned to view his other subjects. "You know what to do from here on out," he began. "Inform me when we reach Mustafar."

"Of course," Vaskall. "But what of our TIE pilots in the system?"

"Do not worry, Vaskall," said Anakin with a hidden smile. "Your son and his comrades will soon be on our side." He moved his gaze to rest on Padmé, Han, and Chewie, all of whom looked dumbstruck. "If you would follow me," he said, turning and striding out of the conference room.

"Anakin, what _was _that?" Padmé gasped.

"It is a Sith tradition for the apprentice to overthrow the master," Anakin explained. "I have been readying myself to do so since the beginning of my apprenticeship."

"What does all of this mean, though?" Han asked weakly. "I mean… I don't understand. You've got operatives poised to exterminate the Hutts?"

"That was my first move once I gained power," Anakin admitted. "I once belonged to Gardulla the Hutt, and my dislike of the creatures has only increased with time."

"Anakin… what does the Emperor know of this?" Padmé asked worriedly. "What if he anticipates this move?"

"As far as Sidious knows, my destroyers are still in construction," said Anakin. "Of the breadth of my Intelligence network, he knows nothing. Foolishly, he thinks that his own system is superior to my own."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes," said Anakin confidently as he led them towards one of the upper levels of the ship. "Otherwise my loyalists would have been executed long ago. That they are still alive is a mark of the Emperor's obliviousness to my contacts."

"What do you mean?" Padmé asked suspiciously.

Anakin paused. "I told you that my bank account had been increased by thankful planetary governments," he began to his wife. "That is only partly true. In return for certain services, several systems are secretly loyal to me. Some even within the core. In years past, I have engineered various laws to allow them to have militaries, making them even more important. Should I decide to call upon their vows of loyalty to me, over fifteen influential and wealthy systems will openly declare rebellion."

Beside him, Han let out a low hiss of surprise, while Padmé's eyes widened. "But won't the Empire attack them?" Han asked.

"They are widespread across the galaxy," Anakin explained. "And an inexperienced military commander will react to the threat and deploy a minimal amount of Star Destroyers to each rebellious system, thus stretching thin the Imperial Navy. And once a significant portion of the Navy has defected to me—"

"Defected to _you_?" Padmé exclaimed.

"Of course," said Anakin, surprised. "I was the military's commander for two decades, Padmé. I have achieved a certain amount of loyalty from my own men. Not to mention, I personally promoted several of my own men into high official positions within the navy."

"Anakin… this is…"

"The Emperor will soon learn that fighting a poorly-funded, disorganized Rebel Alliance is a far cry from me," Anakin continued. "And once the Rebel Alliance and I are allies, the Empire will fall."

"But what about Luke?"

Anakin froze mid-step. "Don't worry, Padmé. Han will help us with that."

Han started. "What?"

Anakin turned to him. "You know Luke better than any of us, Han, and you have a history with him. You will be able to predict his moves when he escapes."

"He'll escape?" Padmé said joyfully. "You've seen it?"

Her husband hesitated. "No. But Luke won't turn. I'm sure of it. His only option will be to escape, Padmé." He stopped walking in front of white double doors. "We've arrived," he announced.

"Where?"

"Your apartments," he explained. "You, Solo, and Chewbacca will be staying here," he said, opening the door with a wave of his hand. Han's eyes went wide.

"_Here_?" he gasped.

The first room was an enormous living area with a large viewport that took up the space of one wall. The décor was simple and elegant, mostly in muted taupes and creams with a black base. Two doors on either side of the room led into the rest of the apartment.

"Solo, Chewbacca, you're on the right," Anakin announced. He looked to his wife. "And you, my lovely wife, are on the left."

Padmé stared at him. "I think that I need some rest," she said finally, still awed by the strange preparedness of her husband. "Where will you be staying?"

"I have a meditation pod aboard," Anakin said uncomfortably. "One level up."

"You're not… staying here?"

"I cannot," said Anakin. "I'm sorry." Han and Chewie wandered off into their rooms, curious, leaving Padmé and Anakin alone.

"Ani… Please stay with me," she asked him quietly.

"There are certain… procedures that must be done regularly, Padmé," he told her. "But I will come up here to stay with you until we reach Mustafar."

She glanced down, obviously sensing his discomfort. "Very well."

"Good. I will return in approximately three hours," he said briskly, turning to leave. Before he left the room, he paused. "Get some rest, my love," he told her gently.

——

Palpatine's tone was light, friendly.

Lord Rexus? What was the madman talking about? Luke forgot about his terrible scarring for a moment to back away. "I don't know what you're playing at, Palpatine," he hissed.

An expression of surprise flitted across Palpatine's own ruined features, and then understanding. "You had another dream about Skywalker, didn't you, Rexus?" He said in a bizarrely sympathetic tone.

"What are you talking about? Luke snapped. What was Palpatine trying to do? Did he think that scarring his face was enough to make him think that he was dead, like it had his father?

His _father_! Dead! Luke winced as the memory surged up to the surface.

"Lord Rexus, calm down," said Palpatine gently. "It was only a dream. It will pass. Skywalker does not exist."

"I _am _Luke Skywalker!" Luke roared. "I don't know what you're think you're doing, but you won't trick me!"

"I won't tolerate disrespect, apprentice," Palpatine said coldly. "I have dealt with these waking nightmares for long enough, Rexus. Get a hold of yourself."

"Stop playing this sick game," Luke snarled. "You're trying to make me think that my life never existed or something. I'm not your apprentice, and won't ever be! You killed my parents!"

"Your parents?" Palpatine, again, sounded vaguely surprised. "This was a vivid one, then. Rexus, your parents died before you were born. I found you—you are unmistakable in the Force, my dear apprentice—and have trained you since."

"You're lying," Luke growled. "I know this game."

"I never lie to you, my dear apprentice," Palpatine said soothingly. "You have told me, many times, that this Skywalker is an enemy of mine."

"I am!"

"Look around you, Rexus," said Palpatine, raising his hands. "We are on your ship, the _Victor_. Behind you, a viewport. The chambers of a Sith Lord."

"I am no Sith!" Luke roared as a seed of confusion and self-doubt swelled up inside of him. What if this wasn't a game?

_NO! _He was _Luke Skywalker, _son of Anakin Skywalker and Padmé Naberrie of Naboo, brother to Leia Organa, student of Yoda! He was not _Darth Rexus_!

Palpatine's expression grew cold. "Be calm, my apprentice," he said finally. "I will leave you to your meditation. Soon, you must use the Force to shield yourself from these unpleasant dreams. They are mixing with reality, and may soon interfere with your duties. I cannot allow that."

"You're trying to trick me," Luke snapped. "I'm not falling for it, Sidious."

"You should address me as 'Master' or 'my lord' at all times," Palpatine said, annoyed. "I will forgive your lapse of respect this once, as you are distraught. Meditate, Lord Rexus. Calm yourself."

Luke opened his mouth to shoot off a furious response when the Sith Master deftly left the room, leaving him alone. He sat still for a few moments before deciding to explore the chamber that he was in to look for any chance of escape.

What he saw astounded him. The walls were white, yes, but it seemed that these _were_ nice chambers. He had vacated an immense bed with black mothsilk sheets. A lightsaber—not his father's—lay on the bedside table, and a black robe lay, as if flung over a chair in front of a desk, on which there were several flimsies and datapads. Intrigued, Luke wandered over to the worktable beside it and found several logic processors and various tools laid out neatly on his desk… half-finished, most of them. Designs of a ship lay beside them.

He turned around to see another door and walked to it. It opened and Luke saw that it was a closet of sorts, only the clothes within were much like the ones that he had worn in his father's care—black monochrome. He lifted a black tunic into his hands and then let it drop onto the floor. This was an elaborate illusion designed to lure him into believing the Emperor's words, Luke realized. He closed the room and turned back, seeing another door across the room. He entered it and saw that it was an office—strewn with flimsies, datapads, and various consoles. He swallowed. It looked so…_used_. As if he really _had _lived here, worked here.

What if the Emperor's words were true? What if he really was Darth Rexus, and not Luke Skywalker?

Luke bit down on his lip. He was a _Jedi_, not a Sith! He was Luke Skywalker!

A small voice inside his mind questioned slyly, a Jedi that uses the Dark Side without thinking?

Nausea crept up into Luke's stomach once more. He _had _reached out to the Dark Side without even realizing it! When the Emperor had entered the room, he hadn't had any control over his emotions, he had been full of hate and anger and fear, all emotions that Yoda had told him led to the Dark Side.

Luke was sickened at the thought.

_Tell me. Who is this Yoda?_ The Emperor's voice echoed inside his head and Luke blanched.

_No one!_ _Get out of my mind!_

A small laugh echoed across the Force. _We share a bond, my dear Lord Rexus. The bond between Master and Apprentice is not one lightly abandoned. Tell me about this Yoda._

_Never! _Luke shouted mentally. _I am _not _Darth Rexus!_

_I know your dreams have been troubling you. You have told me of them before… I can only assume that the trauma caused has given you some kind of amnesia. I will tolerate this for the time being, my apprentice, but soon you must return to duty. _

Luke savagely threw up shields against the voice that was the Emperor and sank to the floor. Could he escape?

Who was left to run to?

Leia. Han. Chewie. But Leia was on Mustafar, and he had no way of getting there… Han and Chewie—Luke didn't even know if they were alive. They could be dead.

Dead.

Dead like his parents.

He bit back a cry of pain and buried his face—his horrible, scarred face—into his hands. How could this have happened? Wasn't his father the Chosen One? Hadn't he sworn to protect his mother at all costs? What could have happened to him that the Emperor could kill him so easily?

The memory of Obi-Wan's shimmering visage in the Medbay on Mustafar rose to the surface of Luke's mind.

His father was not powerful enough to destroy the Emperor. But should he have been able to repel him, at least, until they could get away? Until his mother was safe, until Han and Chewie—defenseless against a Sith Lord—could reach sanctuary?

Anakin would have done anything he could to protect his wife and son, Luke realized. There had to be an explanation. He couldn't be dead. It wasn't possible. Tentatively, he reached out into the Force, searching for the vortex of power that was his father's mind.

Nothing.

He could feel nothing—no shields, no weak awareness—it was as if Anakin had disappeared. Or died.

A primal cry tore itself from Luke's ravaged throat, infused with anger—at himself, at the Emperor—pain, denial, fear—

There were no shields against those emotions, Luke realized as he quieted, spent. Nothing. As if he had been using them for as long as he could remember. He bit back tears. How could he know the truth? How could he see if the Emperor was lying to him or not?

The answer came to him like a bolt of lightning. Eagerly, Luke shoved up his sleeve, expecting to see the metallic seam of flesh and machine—the control panel embedded in his forearm—

His hand was natural. He even had calluses. Luke lifted his right hand, staring at it in disbelief. It was no prosthetic. It was real. Which meant…

NO!

_NO!_

He was Luke Skywalker Jedi Knight Anakin's son Leia's sister padawan commander pilot Padmé's son her lost baby a smuggler little brother of Han and Chewie the rebel that blew up the Death Star the apprentice spied on by Terzé Ba'kuun by Hannon Lang Vaskall's friend Dase's murderer

MURDERER!

SITH!

He _WAS _DARTH REXUS!

HE _WAS_!

He was Darth Rexus, Dark Lord of the Sith, apprentice to the Emperor, Commander of the Military!

_No! _A weak voice cried out in Luke's mind. _No, no, no!_

_Murderer murderer murderer_

Not a Jedi 

Jedi don't murder

Sith

He was a Sith

A Sith, a Sith

Darth Rexus

Darth Rexus 

A/N: Yeah. So I hate it.


	25. Rexus

A/N: Thanks for all of the reviews! There were several questions asked which I promise will be answered in due time. Also, thanks to Gryphon for the clarification of the different star destroyer classes. Very helpful!

Another Route

25

"Luke!" Leia's eyes flew open at the strange sensation of another's emotions crossing into her mind. Pain… anger… Denial? What had happened? What was the matter?

"Princess Leia?" Mon Mothma asked worriedly. "What is the matter?"

"I don't know," Leia admitted faintly. An overpowering sense of rage swept her. "Something is wrong," she said at last. "Something has happened to Luke."

"How do you know?" Mothma asked quietly.

"We're twins," Leia said slowly. "We must have a connection of some kind. A bond. I don't know _what _it is. All I can feel is that something is horribly wrong." She frowned.

"What was the last transmission from the Millennium Falcon?" Mothma asked briskly to a technician in the communications room, where she and Leia had been inspecting the equipment.

"We haven't gotten one," said the technician. "All we've gotten is one from ID VS-1, but no one's listened to it yet."

"VS-1?" Leia mused aloud. Something was familiar to her about the serial number—something was calling it to her. "Play it."

"Has it been checked for bugs and tracers?" Mothma interjected. "Don't be rash, Princess."

"It's clean," said the tech. "But it was sent on a secure line that I've never seen before. Shall I play it?"

"Do," said Leia curtly, her senses singing.

The technician downloaded the transmission onto a smaller holoproj and brought it over to the table. "There you are," he said, retuning to his post.

"Thank you," said Mothma, reaching forward and pressing the 'receive' button.

Instantly the smaller version of Darth Vader—in full regalia—sprung up from the proj. "Anakin Skywalker reporting at Date of Departure plus three days and four-point-five hours," he began in formal military protocol. We arrived at Bain, only to be taken aboard the ship _Executor_." It seemed, for a moment, that he hesitated, or had to steel himself to continue. "The Emperor was aboard and managed to capture Luke and injure me. With the help of an officer loyal to myself, Lady Amidala, Chewbacca, Captain Solo, and myself managed to escape and rendezvous with my private flagship, VS-1, the _Varykino_. No contact has been made with Luke. My resources have been activated. I await confirmation of our similar goals. My private comm is VS-21.14.518."

The holo deactivated.

Leia and Mon Mothma both stared at the place it had been in complete shock.

The Emperor had Luke. The idea rolled around in Leia's numb mind.

The Emperor was aboard and managed to capture Luke 

——

"I trust you're feeling much better, Lord Rexus."

Luke looked up to stare blankly at the Emperor's shriveled form as he entered the room. He hadn't moved a muscle in the two days that he had been there. "My name is Luke Skywalker," he said numbly.

The Emperor ignored him. "I have given command of the _Victor _to Admiral Bayne until you are recovered," he said. "In a few days, it is my hope that you will be fully functional once more."

"I will never serve you," Luke said darkly.

"That is enough!" Palpatine said sharply. "I am losing my patience, my apprentice."

"I am not your apprentice," said Luke flatly. "I am Luke Skywalker."

"There is no such person as Luke Skywalker," Palpatine hissed. "I grow weary of this figment of your imagination!"

"Then who destroyed the Death Star?" Luke spat. "Then who rescued Anakin Skywalker from the Imperial Palace? Who is the Rebel pilot?"

"The Death Star is in perfect condition," the Emperor said, bemused. "And is nearing completion. Anakin Skywalker? Tell me, who is this?"

"My father," Luke snarled. "You once deceived him into joining you! I will not let myself make that mistake!"

"Anakin Skywalker does not exist," Palpatine said coolly. "And you are certainly no Rebel pilot."

"Shut _up_!" Luke shouted, incensed. "This game isn't going to work!"

"I am not trying to trick you, my friend," said Sidious gently. "You are distraught."

"If I'm not Luke Skywalker, then what happened to my face? You did it! I'm sore because you Force-shocked me!" Luke said angrily. "Get out of that one, Sidious!"

"You were the target of an assassination attempt on Malastare," said Palpatine patiently. "Of which a captured wampa was a part. You chose to keep the scars as a testament to your bravery."

"Liar," Luke hissed, when suddenly the dim memory of an enormous white creature with red eyes and terrible claws rose to the surface of his mind. He swallowed numbly. "You did it!"

"I? Lord Rexus, that is not the work of a man," the Emperor said calmly.

Fury rose up in Luke's chest and he stood without thinking, lifting his hand. The lightsaber flew to his palm and he brought it before him. "I am Luke Skywalker," he said once more. "I am a Jedi!"

He activated the saber, and then, in startled and horrified recognition, dropped it to the ground as soon as the blood-red blade leapt to life. _The weapon of the Sith!_

——

Darth Sidious was pleased, very pleased. At last—after decades of planning, conniving, and preparation, he was invincible. He now had his apprentice—the one who would propel the Sith into the stuff of legend, who would ensure the Sith Order's survival for the millennia to come. And on top of that, Darth Rexus' unwavering loyalty to his master promised Sidious' power forevermore. Darth Maul had been a warrior—a keen-edged weapon on which to lay his plans. Darth Tyrannus had been a mere tool, a fill-in, for the apprentice that was supposed to have fulfilled Rexus' duties—Darth Vader.

His lips curled at the mere thought of the man. Sidious had labored long and hard over the creation of that apprentice. From the moment he had first sensed the boy, his cunning had been thrown into motion. With Jedi the likes of Qui-Gon Jinn and Obi-Wan Kenobi, how could he Turn the supposed Chosen One? To all others, it would have seemed impossible.

But the Force was his ally, as was his political prowess. It had only taken a simple visit to Tatooine to spur the savage Tuskens into the capture of Skywalker's mother—thus beginning of the Jedi's Fall. At the time, he had hoped that the death of his mother would be enough, but the boy had proven stronger than he had anticipated. Though, perhaps not without the aid of Padmé Amidala.

However, Sidious admitted, he had underestimated Kenobi. Yes, he had manipulated everyone around the young Jedi—including both his master and his precious Amidala—but in the end, Kenobi had proven stronger than he had thought. He had been sure that his apprentice would dispose of the Jedi easily, but instead the duel had destroyed Vader's body—leaving him helpless and crippled, and Force-blind as far as Sidious was concerned.

Oh, that wasn't to say that Vader hadn't had his uses. He had, after all, been his right-hand man and without him, the Empire would be where it was. Sidious was not so arrogant as to claim otherwise. But, in the end, Vader had been subject to his weaknesses once more, and had failed. But he hadn't gone without a parting gift.

Ah, yes.

Lord Rexus. He would be the undisputed king of the Galaxy—awed and feared by all. His word would be law, his powers unending. All the power of an undamaged Anakin Skywalker lay in his veins, and therefore in Sidious' hand.

It hadn't taken much effort to secure Rexus' place, Sidious mused. The boy—trained as he had been by Vader and by Yoda, apparently—was no Master. His shields were thin, flimsy, and Sidious had crushed them and entered the boy's mind, sifting through the years of memories and emotions and events. It had taken only a brush of the Force to create an illusion that the boy's own power sustained—the illusion that his hand was flesh. Another light touch rendered the boy's mind-link with his father useless and hidden, leaving Skywalker with no other option but to think that his father was dead.

Soon, Sidious would begin to erase the boy's memories of his attachments. Soon, he would be the ultimate weapon, the absolute Sith. Soon.

Oh, yes. Very soon.

—

"You are prepared to re-take the helm of the _Victor_, my young friend?"

"Yes, Master," said Darth Rexus at once, cold pleasure rising up within him.

"Good. Re-acquaint yourself with your ship, Lord Rexus. Consult the High Admirals and begin planning the first offensive against the Rebels. We have lain dormant against them for too long—I sense that they are collecting themselves and are preparing for a large offensive. You must uncover the location of their base. Understood?"

"Yes, Master," Rexus repeated.

Barely visible behind the cowl, Sidious smiled. "Excellent. Go, my friend. Your shuttle awaits you."

"Thank you, Master," said Rexus, rising to his feet. He turned on his heel and strode out of the room, ignoring the strangely unsettling feeling that the immediate guard of stormtroopers created as they surrounded him.

He entered his shuttle and barked, "Back to the _Victor_. Now."

"Yes, my lord," the nervous pilot replied instantly. "At once."

Rexus sat in a chair, leaning back into the padded comfort. The Rebels were a threat—a threat to the Empire. His Empire. He needed to discover the location of the base at once and crush them with one, searing blow. Then the Galaxy would be fully at peace and would function the way it had been meant to function. And Rexus and his master would be at the helm of it all.

"We've arrived, my lord," said the pilot over the comm system.

Rexus rose. "Good. Lower the ramp."

"Already done, my lord."

But Rexus didn't hear him. He turned quickly and moved down the ramp with a catlike grace, heading towards the ensemble of captains and admirals that awaited him.

—

Darth Rexus was certainly no Darth Vader—that much Admiral Bayne was sure of. He hadn't yet met the man—it seemed that no one had—and his only orders were that he was the new commander of the military and that he was to be treated with complete respect and submission.

He detested the thought. Bayne was no puny officer who had been promoted on achievements of a large purse and important family. He had risen from humble origins. Born the son of a merchant trader on the Outer Rim, he had been accepted into the Empire's best military academy and had graduated a lieutenant. Over the next twenty years, he had proven himself again and again. And now, he would be forced to bow to a Sith Lord who had emerged out of nowhere to snatch the opportunity of commander right from Bayne's waiting hand.

When the flowing black robes swept towards him, Bayne half-expected to see a life-support panel and black mask. He glanced upwards to see a pale, horribly scarred face—utterly impassive—moving towards him rapidly. At the man's waist a lightsaber swung in time with his strides.

The captain beside him bowed briefly. "Lord Rexus," he began nervously. "Welcome."

Rexus' brow raised slightly and he nodded. "It has been some time."

His voice was a tenor, but rasping. He had probably been very innocent sounding as a young man. Bayne leaned in to examine the man more closely, and it took careful schooling of his features to hide what he had found.

This Rexus—he was a child! He couldn't be more than two-and-twenty! Anger spread from the center of Bayne's body to the rest of his limbs. His ambitions had been crushed for a mere boy?

Suddenly, he found himself unable to move—and invisible vice clenched his arms and legs, keeping him locked in place. Rexus was staring at him coldly. "I am many things, Admiral Bayne," he snarled. "But I am certainly not a child."

Cold fear replaced the anger. In his passion, Bayne had forgotten that Vader had shown signs of mind reading as well. It was only natural that this new Sith Lord would have the same ability. But what had prompted the change to begin with? Where was Vader? He, at least, had proven himself to be an excellent commander and strategist. This _young man _surely didn't have the experience!

"Darth Vader is dead," Rexus snapped. "I need to be briefed."

"Of course, my lord," Bayne said, closing his mouth from when it had opened in sheer surprise. Darth Vader—_dead_? The very thought seemed treasonous! He had been the Emperor's staunchest servant, the man to almost single-handedly insure the Empire's survival hundreds of times. What was the Empire going to do without him?"

"This way, my lord," said General Cesin hesitantly. "To the bridge."

"I know my way around my own ship, General," Rexus snarled, stalking past them and out of the hangar. His robes billowed out behind him not unlike the way Vader's cape had.

The officers stared at each other once he had left, all pale and surprised. "This is his first time ever on the _Executor_, though," Cesin whispered.

"The _Victor_, you mean" Bayne corrected dryly. "I know. It doesn't make any sense."

"Who is he? He looks familiar somehow," Captain Teknu mused. "Maybe he's actually Vader, but they're trying to pull one over on us or something."

"Nice theory, but it doesn't make any sense, Captain," Bayne said, amused. "Where's the suit, first of all, and second, Vader is far taller."

Teknu shrugged. "I don't like him."

"Did you like Vader?" Cesin reminded him. He shuddered. "Let's go. We have to go brief him."

"Right," said Teknu, his brow still furrowed. "He still seems familiar, though."

—

"And we do not know where the Rebel Base is?" Rexus said darkly as he paced the length of the conference room. The other officers found the pacing to be as unnerving as the stock-still position Vader had favored.

"No, my lord, said another captain. "We have re-checked all likely worlds as according to their previous bases, but we have uncovered nothing."

"Do we have any Rebels in custody?"

"Not at the moment, my lord."

Rexus whipped around to stare darkly at the officers, who visibly recoiled at the sight of his eyes—hints of blue shone through, but they were almost an unnatural yellow, a sickly orange. "Then this meeting is pointless. Inform me when you have actual information."

"Yes, my lord," said the officers in unison, rising hastily to their feet as Rexus strode out of the conference room. The various personnel in the halls instinctively avoided him, the disfiguring scars and Sith robes creating apprehension.

His feet led him to the bridge. He stared out the viewport, walking slowly to a spot that was familiar to him, and clasped his hands behind his back. He supposed that the reason for the strange familiarity of the place was because he normally spent his time there. The swirl of hyperspace was oddly hypnotic.

_"Hey, kid, don't use that lightsaber this time, alright? I don' need to explain you again," the scruffy-looking Corellian said, laughing._

_Rexus felt himself roll his eyes. "You weren't so against it when we had to escape from that Rodian, Han, remember?"_

_Han laughed again. "Yeah, well that was life-or-death. This is just a simple pick-up."_

_"I'm not going to use it if I don't have to, Han," the words spilled out of Rexus' mouth._

_"I know, Luke, because of the Emperor," Han said, as if reciting something that he had said many times._

Rexus jerked himself out of the recollection, his lip curling. It was yet another memory of this _Luke Skywalker _that his mind had created. It sickened him. But who was this 'Han?' Was he another imaginary character, or did he exist?

He felt a familiar brush against his senses from his Master and turned quickly. His Master wished to speak to him. He walked the familiar distance to the holo-communications chamber. Once there, he knelt down and waited for Sidious' holo to project.

"How was your return, my friend?"

"Good, my master," said Rexus. "Though there has been no progress made on the search for the Rebel Base."

"I see," said Sidious thoughtfully. "Then you should encourage your men to double their efforts by any means necessary. Understood?"

"Yes, Master," said Rexus instantly. The holo flickered out, and he turned to face the viewport. "Cesin," he snapped, and the general immediately stepped up to him from his spot at a console, reading various reports.

"My lord," said the man at once.

"Prepare a holographic display of Sector Eight," said Luke. The Force was trying to tell him something—it was leading him to that part of space.

"Yes, m'lord," said the man, turning towards the pit. The crew members rose to their feet. "Continue all present directives," said Cesin. "I shall return shortly."

They all saluted and Cesin turned back to Rexus. "This way, m'lord," he said respectfully as Admiral Bayne rose as well. The two officers led the man down a series of halls to a large, darkened room. "Initiate Sector Eight," he informed the droid at the control panel.

Instantly, the labeled hologram of Sector Eight was projected into the room, and Rexus stepped forward, his hands clasped behind his back. "Dantooine, Yavin IV, Hoth, he said. "What do they have in common?"

Cesin and Bayne exchanged nervous glances. "Remoteness," Cesin offered. "Lack of sentient population and generally, life at all."

"Not too far from the Outer Rim, but not close to the core," Bayne continued. "Easy access to underused trade routes."

"Those are all obvious traits," Rexus snapped, causing Cesin and Bayne to unconscoiusly step back. Rexus froze. Right in front of his eyes was a small system labeled: "MSF. 1/3. Red." The statistic meant that of the three planets in the system, only one was habitable, and the classification 'red' meant that while it was capable of sustaining life, the environment was dangerous and had never been occupied for any length of time. He narrowed his eyes and they suddenly flashed yellow. "What is this system?" he growled.

"It is…" Bayne began, turning to peer over at the console. "The Mustafar system, m'lord. Volcanic environment, but the upper atmosphere has sufficient oxygen—my lord?"

Mustafar.

The name evoked strange memories in Rexus—memories mostly of pain, of fire… but of other things as well. The image of a pale, scarred man kneeling at the banks of a lava flow leapt to the forefront of his mind. He scowled and came back to himself, realizing that the planet was the one the Force had been singing to him about. All his energies were drawn to the spot, as if that which gave him life originated there. He found himself on the floor, in the same position the man had been in his fractured memory. He snarled and stood, turning to the officers. "The Rebels are there," he snapped. "We leave for the Mustafar system with a contingent of ten more Star Destroyers in seven standard days."

The two men gaped at him as he strode from the room, returning to the shuttle that had borne him to the _Victor_. This news merited his master's audience, as the manner in which he had gotten it demanded Sidious' council.

——

"What?" Sidious snapped at his kneeling apprentice.

"The Rebel Base is on Mustafar, Master. I am sure of it," Rexus repeated calmly.

"I… see." Rexus waited patiently for his master to speak further. "And how did you learn this?"

"The Force led me to it, Master," said Rexus. He hesitated, and Sidious recognized it instantly and pounced upon the lapse in his apprentice's control like gundark did its prey.

"Something troubles you."

"Yes, Master," said Rexus uneasily. "The mention of the planet… revives strange memories."

"I see," Sidious repeated in a clipped tone. "Come here, boy," he commanded. At once, the former Jedi stood and moved more closely to the raised dais. He knelt again at Sidious' feet. With a knarled, decaying hand, the Emperor snatched Rexus' chin and yanked him forward. Despite his surprise, the Sith did nothing. Sidious closed his eyes and waded into the maelstrom of power and barely disguised confusion that was his apprentice's mind. Rexus struggled a bit at the intrusion, when a sharp mental rap silenced him. Sidious sifted through the memories and cast a Dark shade over them. He did not erase them completely—he would, perhaps, have use for them one day—but let them fade from the Sith's consciousness. He let go.

The man who had once been Luke Skywalker didn't move, his eyes glassy and glazed over. "Get up," Sidious ordered sharply.

Rexus rolled to the side of the dais and threw up, the invasion of his mind having negative effects on his body. He was severely weakened.

"Get up, _apprentice_." Sidious snarled, angered at the weak response of the boy who was supposed to be invincible. Except, perhaps, against Sidious himself. The thought pleased him. "You are to be presented to the galaxy tonight," he said, and Rexus raised his dull eyes to his master. "Clean yourself up. This display has sickened me. After you are presented, you will continue with your plans regarding Mustafar." Rexus slowly raised himself to his knees and Sidious bared his teeth in anger, raising his hands. "I will not tolerate this weakness," he hissed, as his body became a vassal for the white-hot lightning that was the visible power of the Dark Side.

Rexus cried out as the Dark energy burned through him, but Sidious cut its flow as abruptly as he had encouraged it. "Should you fail me again," he threatened. "I shall not be as lenient."

"Yes, master," Rexus gasped. "Thank you."

"Leave my sight."

——

"Lord Vader… This is unexpected."

"Vicereine Castana," Anakin greeted, inclining his head as a sign of respect to the aging human woman whose holo was projected in front of him. "I contact you on a matter most grave."

"Indeed," said the woman. "And would it have anything to do with rumors my spies have brought me concerning your defection and apparent leave of the Empire, Lord Vader?" she questioned shrewdly.

"It would."

"And this is a call to raise up in arms against the Empire, is it not?"

"Yes."

"Tell me. What could possibly be the reason for this?" Castana asked after a moment. She crossed her arms. "I want to know the truth before I just hand over my people's military to you."

"The Emperor committed betrayal of the worst kind," said Anakin. "On multiple counts. I hereby call on your oath, made to me the second day of the tenth month of seven standard years ago."

"I see." Castana was silent for several moments. "My military is yours to command, Lord Vader. I will wait for more instructions."

"Excellent," said Anakin, just as she cut the transmission. He mentally ran through his list of loyalists, of which Castana had been the last. All present and accounted for, he thought dryly. All of the short conversations had gone more or less in the same way as the one with the Cethir system's Vicereine. He leaned back into the chair in his meditation pod and, with the Force, pressed the button that would begin his maintenance cycle. It had taken four hours—longer than he had anticipated—to gather together the newly rebellious planets. But his plans were now set in motion, he thought as the mask was lifted from his face. The brief second of suffocation—and then his lungs began to work on their own.

He sighed and closed his eyes. Luke. How could he have been captured? What would the Emperor do to him?

It wasn't that hard to imagine. As the Sidious' former apprentice, he was all too aware of what Sith Master was capable. He would try to turn Luke—to make the Jedi bow to him as had his father. Vaguely, the memory of his frantic shield lessons he had given Luke right before he met the Emperor floated to his mind and made Anakin smile ironically. He had been worried, then, that the Emperor would take his son from him. Life had not changed much in four years, he supposed, only that now Sidious truly did have Luke.

The slow ache between his temples that had been growing throughout the day pierced his consciousness and Anakin held his head in his hands, wishing, for the millionth time, that he had made better choices. If not for him, none of this would have happened.

"Beating yourself up, again, I see."

"Of course," he replied, no longer surprised at his former master's random comings and goings. He looked up to see Obi-Wan as he had looked when he had just become a Knight. Clean-shaven and hair cropped, he could have been mistaken for a Padawan still, were it not for the fact that his braid was gone. "Do you know what has happened to Luke?"

Obi-Wan shook his head. "I'm sorry, brother. I cannot see past the Dark that shrouds everything close to Sidious. It makes me a most ineffectual spy."

Anakin cracked a weak smile as the droids whirred about his body, removing the suit piece by piece to clean his body. He winced as one of the droids made some nerve ending changes to his left hand, and looked up just in time to see Obi-Wan's discomfort. "Don't start," he said warningly, knowing that his former master had been just about to apologize for the hundredth time.

"Very well," Obi-Wan assented, crossing his arms and 'leaning' against the wall of the meditation pod. "I am worried for Luke, Anakin," he admitted.

"He won't turn, Obi-Wan," said Anakin. "He won't."

Obi-Wan gazed at him through troubled eyes. "That, my friend, is what I said about you."

Anakin sat in shocked silence for a few moments before he managed, "That was low."

"Yes. But true," said Obi-Wan heavily. "He has not been fully trained, Anakin. I don't know if he has the experience to resist Sidious. You and I, of all people, know how cunning he can be. How seductive."

"Yes, I know," Anakin snapped, unwilling to recall the memories.

"We need to be prepared," said Obi-Wan slowly. "For the possibility."

"He won't turn," Anakin growled. "If you've got nothing productive to say, then leave."

And he did.

AN: Please review!


	26. The Presentation

**Gryphon: **Wow. You really know your EU, huh? I'm glad that you're okay with Thrawn being in my story (I really got into his character after reading Djuva's _The Art of War_) especially considering the discrepancies with EU-Canon. However—Thrawn is the ONLY EU character that will be appearing in AR, for two reasons. **1)** I haven't read EU, and thus don't know anything about the characters other than what I've read in fanfic and **2)** there's simply no room! The next chapters will be focusing heavily on the characters and with my plot, I don't think there's room/time enough to introduce any other EU characters like Mara Jade, Tremayne, etc.

My true reasons for putting Thrawn into the story are because I was absolutely fascinated with the idea of a strategic and tactic genius being on Vaderkin's side and I thought the interplay between him and Vaderkin would be really interesting to write and, hopefully, read.

That said, I appreciate your knowledge of the ships of the Imperial fleet to no end! I've always been a bit leery about the logistics of the _Executor_, etc, and I've mostly resorted to making ships up. : ) Again, thanks for your helpful review! I really appreciate an insightful reader/reviewer.

--

_Another Route_

Chapter 26

Anakin stepped inside the spacious apartment that he had given Padmé, Han, and Chewie. The room was darkened, and the viewport showed only the swirl of hyperspace. He was tired, and weary from the day's events. Was it only that morning that Luke had been taken? Nonetheless, his body was sore and exhausted from everything that had happened. He sank into a chair, the flare of his helmet irritating him as he tried to lean his head back.

After a few minutes, he stood once more and walked to the door that was his wife's bedroom, intending only to check to see that she was sleeping. The door slid open at a wave of his hand and he entered, the night-vision capabilities of his helmet's eye-plates showing her slim form beneath the covers, clad in a simple shift. Before he could stop himself, he sat beside her on the bed and removed his right glove, resting it on her shoulder.

"Ani…" she murmured, her eyes still closed as she reached up and took the hand and held it to her cheek, as she so often had done at the beginning of their marriage, when he had been so self-conscious about the prosthetic. He shut his eyes tightly, unwilling to recall the many nights that he would return from a mission, exhausted, only to watch her sleep in their bed.

He wanted so desperately to touch her cheek, and feel her soft skin—to run his hands through her hair and feel the silken strands slide through his fingers. He wanted to trace his hands over her shoulders, and feel the smooth skin that only he had ever touched.

But he couldn't.

Releasing a ragged breath that overrode his respirator, he lurched up and left the room, unable to handle the sight of her any more. Once back in the main room, he sat and clenched the helmet in his hands. Why did the Jedi Council refuse to heal him? Didn't they know that it was the only way he could defeat the Emperor and get Luke back? Or was it more punishment?

With a growl, he slammed his fist down on the wooden arm of the chair, shattering the carefully carved piece. And he couldn't feel it.

The reminder only served to incense him more, but this time he had no energy to demonstrate it.

"Can't sleep?"

He jerked his head up to see Han leaning on the wall, his expression hidden in the shadows.

"I don't sleep," he replied once he had gotten over his surprise. When was the last time someone had sneaked up on him? He was surprised—and a little worried—that Solo had been able to do so with such apparent ease. "How long have you been standing there?"

"Since you came out," said Han unconcernedly. "What's wrong?"

Anakin was inclined to dismiss him like he would anyone else, but he couldn't find the strength. "You don't know what it's like," he said wearily. "Nobody does."

Han walked over and sat down in a chair across from him. "What 'what's' like?" he inquired.

"This suit," he spat bitterly. "I can't feel _anything_! I can pick this up—" he grabbed a decorative engraved rock—"but I can't _feel _it!" he threw it with all his might at the viewport, but it barely made a scratch against the transparisteel and fell to the floor. "I get vision and audio fed to me like I'm some sort of computer, I can't breathe without this blasted machine, and this Force-forsaken suit is the reason that my son is now in the hands of my worst enemy!" He stood up and began to pace the length of the room.

Han said nothing for a few moments. "But you've overcome it all, right?"

"What are you talking about?"

"If you were anyone else, you'd be dead," said Han logically. "That's got to count for something."

"I'd rather be dead," he spat. "I _should _be dead. It should have ended that day on Mustafar. I should have burned to death."

"But you didn't," said Han quietly.

"That's debatable," he muttered.

"You're still alive," Han continued. "Your wife still loves you. Your kids love you. That's not so bad, in my book."

"Leia hates me," Anakin reminded him. "With good reason."

"She won't always," said Han calmly. "Look, if I've figured out that you're not such a bad guy, then she'll come around too. You've just had a rotten deal, that's all."

"A rotten deal?"

"First you were a slave," said Han, ticking off one finger. "Then you got to go say 'yes, Master' and 'no, Master' every time you turn around to the Jedi, who then decided to kill you and put you in that suit. Then you had to go and bend your knee to the ugly old guy for half your life. Sounds like a rotten deal to me."

"Half of it is my fault," Anakin said. "If I hadn't—"

"Ah, shut up," said Han. "We're all tired of it. What's done is done. Now you've gotta make the best of it."

Anakin stared at him. "When did a smuggler learn this?"

Han shrugged. "You learn a lot of things on the street," he said offhandedly. "Go back in there and sleep. Or watch her sleep. Whatever it is you do. Seems to me if I'd been away from Lei—" he stopped and coughed for a second before continuing—"I mean, if I'd been away from my wife for twenty years, I'd wanna spend time with her." Han stood up. "G'night," he said, returning to his room and leaving Anakin in darkness.

What if Padmé woke up and was terrified to see Darth Vader in her room? What if she screamed? What if she got angry with him for making pretenses? The possibilities were endless of what she might do, and Anakin didn't really want to find out.

But Han was right. Anakin _had _been away from her too long not to want to be with her. He gathered his courage and walked to the room, hesitating for a split-second before reentering her room. He sat by the bed and rested his hand on her shoulder, rejoicing in the small curve of her smile as she felt his touch.

"Hold me, Ani?" she whispered, pulling at his arm.

He swallowed a little nervously before easing onto his back and pulling her petite form into the crook of his arm. He unclasped his cloak and pulled it around to let the warm, heavy material cover her. She sighed and draped her arm over his chest, thankfully missing the control panel.

Anakin lay there for a long time before allowing the hypnotic rhythm of his respirator to overcome his drooping eyelids and he fell asleep.

——

When Padmé woke, the first thing she noticed was that she was warm. The second was that she was nestled beside another, and that a large arm lay behind her shoulders and was currently her pillow. She heard familiar, rhythmic breathing next to her ear and recalled vaguely that Ani had entered her room the previous night.

"Ani…" she whispered, her voice still groggy with sleep. "Are you awake?"

He made no reply; his rhythmic breathing continued on unaltered. She frowned and sat up, careful not to disturb him. Not that it was likely she could move him, she admitted wryly. He had been bigger than she when he was whole, and now he was positively massive.

She slipped into the 'fresher to get ready for the day. When she returned, he had disappeared.

——

"ETA five standard minutes," said Thrawn as Anakin approached the bridge. "Do you want to send a transmission?"

"No," said Anakin after a moment to think. "Perhaps they will reconsider my offer once they are surprised by the fleet."

"Perhaps they will feel threatened," Thrawn countered.

"Excuse me, Admiral," said a breathless ensign, appearing at Thrawn's elbow. "I thought you'd want to know," he said. "Six systems have declared allegiance to Lord Vader."

"Turn on the INN," said Vader at once.

The ensign made a motion over his shoulder to the pit technician controlling the vidscreens. Four screens activated.

"—and I've just received word that Vicereine Castana of the Cethir system has also declared Rebellion and joined the other systems with allegiance to Darth Vader. Seven Imperial garrisons have been destroyed and—"

"That's enough," said Vader, and the screen switched off immediately. He turned back to Thrawn. "What do you think?"

Thrawn wore a small, rare smile. "I think that it is a good start."

"Oh?"

"And depending on when the new commander takes over, phase two will begin nicely. How long are you planning on staying at Mustafar Base?"

"Five days, or as long as they let me," Anakin replied. "ETA?"

"Two minutes," Thrawn replied. "Any updates on Luke?"

"No. Nothing," said Anakin, glad for once that the vocoder betrayed no emotion. Thrawn, however, recognized the subtle troubled tone, and changed the subject. "Shall I inform Lady Vader and the others?"

"No. They're coming," said Anakin, feeling the presence that was Amidala in the back of his mind growing nearer. "Prepare a shuttle."

"Already done."

—

Now that Vader was back in the suit, Mothma's former ease was gone completely. She approached them on the docking bay as soon as they arrived, her face tense and her strides carefully measured. Anakin stepped down after Han and Chewie, and then held his arm out to Padmé, who took it with a smile.

"I hope you don't think that we're going to change our minds because you showed up with those destroyers," Mothma said sharply, trying in vain to be as calm and authoritative as she normally was, regardless of the presence of Darth Vader in his full regalia before her.

"Not at all," said Anakin, the clean, crisp tones of Vader slipping from the mask. "But we seek refuge here, and perhaps a partnership between our two organizations. After all, we both serve the same cause."

"Really," said Mothma dubiously. "And what part of twenty years of unjustified murder, tyranny, and terror corresponds with the Rebel Alliance's agenda?"

Padmé winced, but Anakin took it in stride. "You know very well, Lady Mothma, that I am no longer the man I was, regardless of the mask I wear. We have disturbing developments about which the Alliance must be briefed. Princess Organa foremost."

"I see," said Mothma coldly. "And how do you think my staff will react to Darth Vader roaming the halls?"

"I am sure that they are aware already of my defection, after my last visit here. Now, shall we have a discussion, or will you turn your back on new information because of the messenger's face?"

Mothma glared at the manipulation. "Very well. Follow me."

They walked into the building and immediately drew stares of fear and awe. The Rebels might be fervent opposition to everything that Vader represented, but nonetheless he was a man of mythic proportions; there were few at the base who had ever seen more than a holo of him. Whispers and slight screams of surprise and fear surrounded them, but Anakin and Padmé gave no signs that they heard.

Finally, they entered a large, cavernous room that seemed to act as a mess hall. On one wall, there were several holoscreens that were stationed on the latest news, and tables dotted the rest of the room. At one of the center tables, Princess Leia was clearly visible, deep in talk with one of the other council members. She glanced upwards at the sudden silence as the party entered the room, and her face flitted through surprised, dread, and finally, excitement to see Han. She excused herself from the conversation and moved over to them, giving Han a quick hug and her mother a kiss on the cheek. She very carefully ignored looking at Anakin or drawing his gaze, and he said nothing. "This is a surprise," she said. "Any news of Luke?"

"Nothing," Padmé admitted unhappily. She glanced up at her husband. "Anakin has sensed no sign of him through the Force."

Leia frowned, her eyes troubled. "But I have not felt his death," said Anakin firmly. "And that I am sure would have created a large signal in the Force. Do not fear, Princess. Luke will survive."

"May we sit?" Padmé asked, careful to insert the 'we' so as to include Anakin.

Leia glanced quickly to her father, whose insectile mask gave no hint of expression. "Very well." She sat, and Padmé with her.

"I'll stand," said Anakin, crossing his arms behind his back and adopting the pose that was familiar to anyone who had seen half the holos of him standing at the bridge of a star destroyer. Padmé looked up at him briefly, a small frown on her face, before Leia drew her back down.

"What happened? Lord Vader was characteristically concise in his report," said Leia.

"There's really nothing more to say," said Padmé unhappily. "They caught us in a Tractor, and refused to let us past even when Ani had convinced them who he was."

"And then Palpatine came?" Leia continued, troubled. "And Vader could do nothing?"

Anakin stiffened.

"Surely the executor of hundreds of Jedi could manage to prevent his own son's capture," Leia said coldly. "All the more evidence for Vader's doubtful motives."

"Leia," Padmé said sharply, knowing that Anakin would not argue with his daughter. "You are not helping the situation."

But Leia's gaze was drawn to the giant holoscreens.

"We have just received news that His Majesty, Emperor Palpatine, has organized one of his rare public appearances to make an announcement. The Imperial News Network will cut away shortly."

A chill settled in Anakin's breast. "Padmé…" he said as quietly as he could. "I don't have a good feeling about this."

Her face was tight. "Me neither."

And suddenly the Emperor was on screen, his face carefully shrouded by a dark robe. "Peoples of the Galaxy," he began, sounding much like he had when he had been just a senator, and later, the Supreme Chancellor. "I come before you today with news both disheartening and encouraging. Long has this Rebellion lain as a shadow over the greatness of this most noble Empire. Long has my most loyal subject addressed this same Rebellion, and made it his life duty to bring justice to those who desire ill will and violence. You all know of whom I speak. Darth Vader, to my very great sorrow, has perished from this galaxy, while performing a difficult and dangerous task for me, his Emperor. Some may now wonder, how can this Galaxy continue to labor against the terrorist efforts of the Rebellion, without one of its figureheads and most loyal servants?" Palpatine stopped for an artful pause. The mess hall was flooded with whispers, as the members of the Rebellion looked upon Vader even as the Emperor announced his death. Padmé and Anakin, as well as Leia, Han, and Mon Mothma, all remained very still.

"However, as always is the case, there is a chance for hope, for renewal, even in the wake of this terrible loss," said Palpatine in a convincing tone of sorrow. "The loss of Lord Vader, while difficult to bear, has proven to be a new beginning—a point from where we can reaffirm our goals and values. Thus, I present to you Lord Vader's last legacy."

"_No_," Padmé breathed, hoarse and afraid.

"Lord Rexus, please step forward and be recognized by the Galaxy," said Palpatine, stepping slightly to the side to allow a slender, pale man dressed in black robes step forward. A hood mostly obscured his face, but from what could be seen, he had terrible scars—deep gouges that ran the length of his face, and distorted his features.

But Padmé, Anakin, and Leia recognized him.

Anakin let out a terrible roar of fury and reached down at his belt to unhook his saber. He lifted it and threw it with all his might at the visage of the despot, the blue blade slipping through the holo and burying itself in the wall behind. "No," he snarled. "NO!"

"No, no, no," Padmé whispered, swaying her feet. Her baby—her child, her beautiful son—so soon returned to her! Palpatine had taken him, had hurt him, had twisted him as he had twisted Anakin!

"I am honored to serve the Emperor," a hoarse and painful-sounding voice announced. A voice that, if listened to properly, was undeniably Luke's.

Anakin sank to the floor, his palms resting on his thighs and his head bent. All was silent, save for Padmé's weeping and his regulated breaths that echoed throughout the chamber. Abruptly, he stood and raised his hand. The saber flew to his palm and he angled it out, stalking past the rows of tables. With the flick of a hand, he turned off the holoscreen.

"I will get him back," he growled. "I will not let Sidious take Luke from me."

He turned and strode towards the closest exit, the tables and chairs flying up to provide a path. "Hey!" Han shouted.

Anakin paused. "What, Solo?"

Han caught up to him. "Listen," he said darkly. "You can't go on runnin' off," he snapped. "Lady Amidala needs your help. Leia needs your help. And you're not gonna be able to do anythin' by yourself anyway, so there's no point in jumping on a ship and blasting to Coruscant. What you have to do is take a step back and look at the situation rationally for once, 'stead of leaping off to do something at a whim. And if you're tryin' to be good again, then stomping around with your lightsaber lit isn't gonna help."

"You know nothing of what you speak, Solo," Anakin snapped. He turned, but Han shoved him in the shoulder and Anakin, caught unawares, stumbled slightly.

"Hey!" Han shouted. "Luke's my friend too, okay? But you don't see me runnin' off on a suicide mission! We gotta work together here! Despite what you think, you ain't exactly all-powerful. If you want Luke back, you gotta look at this smart!"

They all waited through several breathing cycles. "I understand once more why you are valued so highly," said Anakin finally. "Thank you, Solo." He extinguished his lightsaber and hooked it to his belt.

Han nodded once. Everyone stared at him. Since when had Han Solo earned Vader's respect? "Lord Vader," said Leia in a small voice. "If you'll follow me." She stood and took Padmé's arm. Silent tears still coursed down her pale cheeks. The company followed Leia into a smaller conference room where all but Anakin sat down. They sat in silence for a few moments. "You know, when we first came here, there were over one hundred skeletons scattered all over these chambers. Cut in half, some of them. Others, dismembered. Most of them, beheaded," said Leia.

Anakin tensed and clenched his hands behind his back. He stalked over to the wall and stared out a viewport, ignoring the fiery hell that was the environment. "That was a long time ago," he said tightly, his discomfort evident even through the vocoder.

Mothma gasped. "That was you? That carnage?"

"The point is," Leia continued on determinedly. "If _that _is what a fledgling Sith Lord does, then I refuse to believe it. I refuse to believe that Luke has become such a monster. It simply isn't possible. There must be another explanation."

"Ani wasn't a monster," Padmé said quietly. "He wasn't."

"Padmé—" Anakin interjected. "Don't—"

"Any man who throttles his pregnant wife is that, and more," said Leia coldly. Mon Mothma gasped, and did not try to hide her horror.

"Leia," said Han suddenly. "Luke was a good kid, right? A good person?"

"Of course," said Leia hotly. "The best."

"Then if Luke's become a Sith—if he becomes what your dad used to be—then ain't it fair to say that maybe he was a good person too? I mean, wasn't he? He was a hero—they called him the 'Hero Without Fear.' Even I remember that," said Han, scratching his head.

Leia stared at him, her mouth slightly open with surprise. Anakin shifted in discomfort by the window. "You're right," said Padmé quietly, wiping her eyes. "Which means that even if this is true—if Luke has—"she swallowed thickly—"if he has turned… to the Dark Side, then he can come back."

"How could he do this?" Leia asked with a sob. "How could Luke turn?"

Behind his mask, Anakin closed his eyes and bowed his head. Was this terrible feeling what his wife and his friends had experienced after his turn? Had they felt the same tight breast, the ache in their throat? Had they felt frozen, unable to process what had happened? Had they felt betrayed, as he did? Did their eyes sting and burn and shed tears, as his would if they were still capable? A new wave of self-loathing swept over him. He had been a fully trained Jedi Knight on the brink of Mastery and a member of the Jedi Council. He had been the Chosen One. He had had no excuse to turn!

But Luke—Luke had just barely scratched surface of the Force. He was largely untrained. For him, temptation to the Dark Side would be all the more difficult to turn away.

Was this suffering—this awful suffering—what he himself had given those he loved the day he knelt before Sidious and proclaimed his loyalty? Had Obi-Wan struggled to keep in the screams of _why_ as he stood over him, watching his beloved padawan burn with the flames of his own foolishness? Had Obi-Wan felt as though he would shatter, stretched thin and heartbroken?

"Sidious is cunning," Anakin managed finally. His voice sounded strained even to his own ears. "Whatever devilry he created in Luke will be difficult to destroy. But in the meantime, Mustafar is no longer a safe base."

"That is true enough," said Mon Mothma heavily.

"We can't just forget about Luke," said Leia angrily. "We have to do something! We have to rescue him!"

"He doesn't want to be rescued," said Anakin. "We must wait until an opportunity for us to confront him presents itself."

"What do you mean, 'he doesn't want to be rescued?'" Leia snapped. "I won't sit here and do nothing!"

"I didn't want to hear anything my wife and my best friend had to say," said Anakin quietly. "I was blind and deaf to reason. That is how I ended up in this suit."

"You would be the authority on the Dark Side, wouldn't you?" said Leia scathingly, brushing angry tears from her cheeks.

"Yes, Princess. I am," said Anakin. He swallowed, grateful that he was able to do so. "I must return to my flagship. Padmé, do you want to stay here?"

"For a little while," she said, frowning. "But I will return with you. Can we stay for another standard hour or two?"

"If you would like," said Anakin immediately. "I am going to take a walk, I think."

"Are you all right?" Padmé asked instantly. "Are you angry?"

"Of course," said Anakin heavily. "But not so much that I will destroy the base," he said with a barely perceptible dryness. He felt heavy, somehow—tired—as though the shock of the past half-standard had sapped all his mental energy.

"Then I will stay and talk with Lady Mothma," said Padmé, slipping into her diplomatic role of old. "

"Very well," said Anakin, turning to leave the room. "Then I will return in one standard."

"Actually, may I accompany you?" Leia asked swiftly.

The helmet turned to her sharply. "If you wish," said Anakin, sounding surprised. "I was going to leave the building so that I won't alarm anyone, but—"

"That's fine," said Leia coldly. "I'm wearing appropriate clothing."

Anakin said nothing. He left the room and she followed him, walking at his side silently. They said nothing until they were outside the building. "What do you need, Princess?"

She noticed his quickened breathing pattern, clenched fasts, and rapid strides as they crossed a bridge over a lava flow. "You're afraid?"

"Wouldn't you be?" he replied. She fell silent. "You did not come with me to question my fears, Leia. What is it that you want to say?" he asked wearily.

"How did you turn back?" she asked finally, her words spilling out in a rush. "How did you go from being—what you were—back to Anakin Skywalker, Jedi Knight?"

"Then you have accepted the truth."

She didn't reply.

They stepped off the bridge onto crumbling rock and black sand. "Don't get too close," said Anakin sharply as she stepped on a rock and it tumbled down the slope to disappear in the lava flow. He grabbed her arm sharply and jerked her back. "The sand is at such a temperature that it will ignite anything too close to it." He pulled her roughly to the other side of him and she stared up at him.

She didn't ask him how he knew.

"Thank you," she murmured quietly. "But you haven't answered my question."

He stopped walking and stared out over the landscape. Almost absentmindedly, he held out his hand and several rocks floated upwards. He spun them around a few times before letting them fall to the ground. "I can't tell you an exact date," he said finally. "After Luke came to live with me, I think parts of Anakin began to shine through. I finally admitted to myself that what I did was wrong. Luke was so trusting—so caring of me, that I tried to understand what he could possibly seen in me that would instill such loyalty and devotion. When he accidentally killed a boy and I saw his reaction, that was a turning point. I was horrified, sickened. I stared at him, and I was afraid that because of me, he had lost the innocence—the naivete—that made him what he was. I defied the Emperor that day and spent the next three years warring with myself. I tried to reconcile what I'd done with my Sith teachings, tried to rationalize the situation—when all along I knew in my heart that Darth Vader would not have helped his son escape against the will of his master."

Leia stared pensively for a few minutes. "Then why did you do such horrible things for the past three years?"

"I was trying to convince myself that I was still Darth Vader. That I had not changed. I still had a job to do, and I still had incompetent subordinates."

"So…" said Leia, her brow furrowed, "It might take years to turn Luke back?"

"I don't know," said Anakin truthfully. "There's no way to tell. There are no precedents for this, no models. I am the only Sith ever to return to the good side. Let us hope that Luke becomes the second."

Leia said nothing for a while. "How could you do it?" she asked finally. "How could you turn like this? How could you do this to people you love? Murder people?"

"I have no answers for you, Leia," said Anakin, troubled. "I'm sorry. That is all I have to offer."

They lapsed into silence once more. "You know, when I was mad at my adoptive father—"Anakin winced—"I used to wish that my real father, wherever he was, would swoop down in a great starship and whisk me away. I used to wish that I could have my real father whenever there would be father/daughter games at school, and all the other students would bring their dads. I never told him about them, because I didn't think that those games belonged to me. They belonged to people whose fathers hadn't left them." Leia frowned.

Anakin stood stock-still. "I'm sorry, Leia. I wish that I had made different choices. I wish that I had had a different life, but I can't change what I've done."

"I understand that now," she said quietly, glancing up at him. "And in spite of everything, I _am _glad that I found you. I can see now that you were a good person once. That you're trying to be a good person now." She hesitated. "Thank you," she said slowly, holding out her hand.

Anakin had no words. He held out his own hand. She took it and slipped the glove off of the prosthesis, taking the metal fingers in her palm. "That means more to me than I can say," Anakin finally managed.

She nodded, and turned to look at the lava flow beside them. "Where did it happen?"

He didn't need her to tell him what she meant. "Further down."

She stood looking at the bank for several minutes. "I'm sorry for you," she said finally. "Not just about the suit, but for everything that happened to you in your life. I think I've begun to understand what made you this way."

He said nothing for a long time—just let the unending cycle of his breathing fill the space between them. "Thank you, Leia."

"Just… Can you promise me something?"

"Anything."

"Bring Luke back." Her eyes were alight with a pain and ferocity that truly exposed how much his daughter she was. "Bring him back."

He reached for her hands and held them clasped in his own. "If I can bring him back by my life or death or anything in between, I will. I promise you."

—

"If you learn any new information, please inform us immediately," said Mon Mothma, executing a stiff, formal bow to Anakin.

He returned the cordiality. "Of course."

"Senator Amidala," Mon Mothma continued.

Padmé's face was drawn and pale. "Senator Mothma."

"As we once were," said Mothma with a tired smile. "Best wishes."

"How long will you be in orbit?" asked Leia of her mother as she embraced her.

Padmé glanced up at her husband. "Ani?"

"Not more than three days," said Anakin swiftly. "We will draw too much attention if we remain here. Besides that, we don't know enough about Lu—" he paused very obviously. "About Rexus' mental state to decide whether he will attack here. In the meantime, my forces are on active duty."

Leia nodded. "I understand. Farewell, Mother." She hesitated. "Farewell, Father."

"Take care, Leia," said Anakin quietly. "Padmé, are you ready?"

She nodded. They boarded the shuttle together.

--

A/N: I actually like this chapter. Wow.

Review?

A/N #2: Oh, yeah. I just wrote a lil viggy that isn't L/V, but it's my take on Obi-Wan's state of mind about 3 weeks after RotS and then what he feels when he learns Darth Vader is still alive. Please check it out and lemme know what you think! It's my first foray into that genre and I could really use some feedback.


End file.
